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About Durban

So I’m pissed, right? Last time I tried this, some chick robbed me blind – took my wallet while I was hummin “Hang me, oh hang me.” Shoulda seen it comin, but nah, I’m too busy bein all cultured and shit. This time, tho, I spot her – red heels, smoky eyes, leanin by a busted lamppost. She’s got that “fare thee well” look, like she’s half outta here already. I’m thinkin, *damn, she’s prolly seen more flops than Llewyn at a gig.*

What to Know Before You Pay for Sex

The neighbourhoods got their own soul. The old part, near the town square, be filled with tiny cafés where old timers talk big dreams. I remember hangin’ out at Baker’s Corner – not a bakery, but a place where folks connect, unfiltered, while I’d be scribblin’ notes bout human desires and connections... damn, that warmed my cockles! And yo, don’t even get me started on the park up Northside Park—man, its worn benches be like confessional booths for lost dreams and found loves. Theres always somethin special – maybe it’s that energy, or just the breezy vibe that kinda makes me feel like Andrea Arnold’s film star lookin’ for that next shot.

Crammed like sardines