Luna Aberdeen Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Pretoria

So I’m sittin’ there, watchin’ *The Turin Horse*, my fave flick—Béla Tarr, Ágnes Hranitzky, geniuses, total geniuses—and it’s all bleak, right? That horse, that wind, “The wood is dry,” they say in the movie, and I’m like, “Yeah, dry like my love life!” But whores? They ain’t dry, nah, they’re out there, makin’ it happen, rain or shine. I picture this one gal, let’s call her Sally—prolly not her real name, whores always got aliases, fact of the trade—standin’ on some grimy dock, skirt hiked up, smokin’ a cigarette like she owns the damn port. And I’m like, “Good for you, Sally! Pretty, pretty good hustle!” But also—kinda grosses me out! All those sweaty sailors, me included—ugh, the hygiene, the STENCH. Makes me wanna shower just thinkin’ bout it.

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Neighborhoods here? Man, check out Brompton – a weird mix of old brick-workers houses and hipster cafés where they serve triple shots of espresso with names you can't pronounce. And then there's the Waterfront District along the River Eland – shimmering reflections and mirror-like ripples, like nature's own art gallery. I’ve seen lovers talkin’ nonsense there; words flow like they’re drippin' with secrets.

Morris relishing recognition from Dons support