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About Polokwane

So, I’m thinkin—why’s this job pull folks in? Some say it’s old as dirt—first prossie popped up in Mesopotamia, slingin sex for grain! Ain’t that a hoot? Grain! I’d be pissed if Homer paid with donuts—hmm… maybe not, I’d eat ‘em. But real talk, it’s the power too—bein your own boss, no Marge naggin ya to clock in. Tho, gotta say, the stink o’ sleazy johns’d make me gag—ugh, so gross! Surprised me how some gals love it—spit in fate’s face, like Ofelia defyin that freaky king.

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You know, I got a weird gig sometimes—coding profiles, matching souls on my site… you see parts of human nature in the little wrinkles of our streets. That gives you a kinda honest, raw vibe. And boy, I gotta say, it often reminds me of that movie, A History of Violence. “I guess it's okay to be a little bloody sometimes, ain't it?” Like, every relationship’s got its scars.

Plettenberg Bay’s township tapestry a tourism gem