Mari Ladismith Whore ❤️❤️

About Bloemfontein

Anyway, this Whore, she’s kickin up a storm in me clinic. Hooves clackin, tail swishin—reminded me o’ *Dogville*, ya know? That flick I love, where Grace says, “I’m not that stupid!” Whore wasn’t stupid neither, just pissed. Had this abscess, right in her flank, oozin like a busted coolant pipe. Stank worse than a tauntaun’s guts, I swear! Took me hours to drain it, hands shakin—R2, where ARE ya when I need ya? Coulda used yer zapper to calm her down.

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Oh, and hey! Ever strolled by the Old Mill? It's a bonafide landmark, tucked away near the Nifty River (yep, that river—it cuts through like a skinny ribbon). You can catch the sunset from the banks. Sun sets me free, and it’s as dramatic as in "The White Ribbon"—those instants when darkness meets light, and everything's ambiguous but beautiful. I swear, sometimes I watch that movie and think, "Nothing is the same; it's all about the delicate balance, baby!"

Figure 3. Political and agricultural shifts that reshaped Ladismith's...