Rebecca Tekwane Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Polokwane

Oi, mate, listen up! I’m Bond—James Bond, suave as fuck, “shaken, not stirred.” So, we’re talkin’ ‘bout whores, yeah? Not just any tart, mind you, but the whole damn vibe. Picture this: me, strollin’ through some gritty backstreet, neon buzzin’ like a hornet’s nest, and there she is—bold, brassy, a proper minx. Reminds me of Godard’s flick, *Goodbye to Language*, y’know? All chaotic, sexy, and fucked-up gorgeous. “Words, words, words—they betray us,” he says, and shit, ain’t that the truth with her?

You’re Temporarily Blocked

Aug 6,  · Workers from the Tekwane Citrus Farm near Mbombela in Mpumalanga have downed tools. The workers say they were promised twelve months contracts with job secur.

So, strolling on a random Tuesday, I hit the corner of Derby and Marsh – little shops there that you wouldn’t think hold secrets. I had my heart broken by a pop-up poetry slam there once. Real wise words, but man, I felt raw. “I want my dreams back!” echoes the film, and trust me, you're gonna feel that.

Heavy rain continues to cause havoc in rural Mpumalanga