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About Cape Town

So, say you’re lookin’, right? Maybe down the red-light district—neon buzzin’ like flies on shite. Girls leanin’ in doorways, eyes hard as flint, some young enough to break your heart. “What you want, love?” one says, all casual. Surprised me, that did—how it’s just business, no faff. I’m thinkin’, blimey, this ain’t no Hollywood rubbish, this is raw, like Malik learnin’ the ropes in prison. “You do it, or you’re done,” that’s the rule.

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In the sermons and poetry of the Reverend Thomas Cradock () of St. Thomas' Parish, Baltimore County, Maryland, we find some of the strongest.

I love chillin’ at the Cradock River Park. The river sparkles like secrets told in midnight whispers. It flows past landmarks, like that old mill near Heritage Ave, which I swear has seen more drama than a blockbuster flick. Honestly, it's bad bitch o’clock every time I’m there—life’s so raw!

Cradock farmer sentenced on fraud charges