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About Cape Town

I spot one—red heels, smokin’ a cig—real cool, like she owns the block. I’m thinkin’, “Homer, you big lug, don’t stare!” But—D’oh!—she winks, and I’m sweatin’ like a pig in a bacon factory. Costs? Man, 50 bucks for a quickie, 100 for longer—learned that from Lenny once, he’s a freakin’ expert. Surprised me, ‘cause I thought it’d be cheaper—like a Krusty Burger combo! Ha! “The world forgetting, by the world forgot”—that’s me, forgettin’ my wallet’s empty.

Two sex workers jailed for life after strangling client to death with phone charger lose appeal

Twenty-year-old Ngwazi (her sex worker nickname) has been a 'lady of the night' for a few months now, but her haggard face tells a different story.

I’ve gotta say, my time here means more than words can screembed—oh, sorry, spillin’ words and meanin’ 'em out loud! Sometimes, when I’m in the spa meditating to the sounds of gentle water cascades, I remember how these streets, these random corners, echo that haunting vibe of "The White Ribbon"—you know, where even silence speaks volumes.

Sea Harvest diversifies with R527m Ladismith Cheese acquisition