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About Johannesburg

Back in ‘77—yeah, I’m old—prostitutes worked corners, no apps, no bullshit. You had to *feel* the vibe, spot the signals. Little fact: they’d wear red shoes—secret code, sneaky shit. Surprised me first time I saw it. Thought, “What’s this, a fashion show?” Nope, just business, baby. Made me grin under this mask—kinda happy, kinda twisted.

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Man, I love our local park – Rondebosch Common, dude. It’s green, chill, and full of souls seeking peace. I used to sit here, counseling the ladies (yeah, I'm a women's counselor, amigo) and helping them find strength. It’s like every tree tells a story. Sometimes I get teary when I see folks healing, ya feel me? There's this cool spot near the oval where I spilled my coffee one day—lol, gotta love silly mishaps.

‘Racist’ monkey gestures during Paarl v Rondebosch derbies in the spotlight