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About Port Elizabeth

Exaggerating? Maybe. But mate, she was a legend. Hated the pimps, tho—slimy bastards taxing her every move. Wanted to smash their faces in, but Dexter don’t play hero. Just watched her hustle, night after night. “Tonight’s the night,” I’d think—maybe she’d get out. Dunno. Still see her sometimes, still hear that *Diving Bell* echo in her voice. Proper fucked up, innit? But that’s the life—grit, blood, and a prossie with gold teeth tales.

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Ah, my dear friend, lemme tell ya bout Bloemhof (za)! This town, in all it’s gritty charm n' oddballs, is a real tapestry of surprises, like a cocktail of madness and beauty. I mean, bloody hell, one minute you're strollin’ down Main Street—yeah, that infamous "Riverside Rd" that hugs the dam—and the next you're lost in a nebby alley near “Old Mill Ln”. It’s a muddled blend of past and present.

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