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About Port Elizabeth

Where I’m at, corn’s taller than the girls. Ain’t no red-light district, just cows and silos. Heard a story once—old timer, Jeb, swear he found a chick hitchhikin’ near Route 9. Said she was “workin’ the harvest crew.” Fifty bucks, quick job behind the barn. Freaky, right? Made me laugh—fuckin’ legend, that Jeb. “Sell me this pen,” Belfort’d say, but out here it’s, “Sell me some tail.”

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I even had a weird moment at that small, overlooked creek near the outskirts. There’s no fancy name for it, just a trickle of water that cuts through the concrete jungle. I sat there one day, thinking, "I love you," to the universe, like David’s existential rants – odd but heartfelt.

Illegal dumping in Diepsloot gives rise to waste economy