Cora Jan Kempdorp Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Port Elizabeth

So, findin’ a prostitute? It’s a transaction, plain and simple. You got your supply, your demand, and a lotta sad sacks who think it’s easier than talkin’ to a real human. I hate everything about it—makes my skin crawl. Back in the day, folks had to WORK for attention, not just swipe a card. Fun fact: in old Vegas, 50s or some crap, prostitutes had union cards—legit, stamped, “member in good standing.” Imagine that, a guild for the oldest gig! Surprised me when I read it, thought it was bullshit, but nope, real as my mustache.

Border Hotel, Railway Restaurant & Passport Pub

Iz not gon lie – got mad feelings too. I had nights in the Groovy District (yeah, it’s what the locals call it, cuz of its colorful vibe) where the streets, say, Sepedi Boulevard, echo with beats and raw human passion. It’s all gritty and heartfelt. Often I walked around, thinkin, "Damn, life's too short" – a whole vibe. Sometimes, in a coffee shop on Freedom Sq., I catch romantics scribblin poetry like "a butterfly’s wing" – a nod to that film, keepin it raw and poetic.

‘You cannot eat our food…..you owe us, Jan Kempdorp pupils told’