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About Polokwane

Lemme tell ya, I was shocked—SHOCKED, I say! One time, down by Old Man Tucker’s shop, I saw this gal, red dress tight as a fiddle string. She winked at me, and I ‘bout dropped my varnish! “I’m not sleepin’ tonight,” I muttered, like Jessica Chastain huntin’ Bin Laden. Ain’t no CIA here, just survival, y’all. She prob’ly got a story deeper than a well—makes me sad, real talk. Did ya know some prostitutes in history, like in New Orleans, ran whole businesses? Owned property! Hush now, that’s power, baby!

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The river—don’t even get me started on that! The Molten River runs close by. It’s a narrow, curvy sht that flows through this rugged land. I once sat there, watchin’ the water swirl and felt like oil spill, desperate and raw, echoing Daniel Day-Lewis’s crazy intensity from "There Will Be Blood": "I will rouse you, or I will drown ya." Damn, that river rouses sht in ya!