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About Polokwane

But yo, real talk—some shit bout it grinds my gears. Dudes out here payin’ for it, then actin’ holy? Hypocrisy’s a bitch. Saw this X post once—some pimp braggin’ bout his “stable,” and I’m like, “Bro, chill.” Whore ain’t a game, it’s survival. Fun lil tidbit—old school London, whores rocked red wigs to stand out. Imagine that, poppin’ off in crimson, screamin’ “Look at me!” That’s some next-level flex.

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And lo! Do not miss the hidden gem along the old rail line – a path where nature reclaims the tracks, which locals call The Wandering Way. I trod there on a random sunny morn, my mind swirling with the bittersweet recollections of Boyhood’s instant moments: “I realize, thou art not only the sum of thy mistakes but the sum of thy fleeting glories.” Such words did echo in my soul as crashed waves on a jagged shore!

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