Olivia Empuluzu Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Pretoria

So, I’m thinkin’, what’s the deal with ‘em? They’re hustlin’, makin’ cash, and lemme tell ya, I’m kinda jealous! Not ‘cause I wanna do it—oh gawd no, my ma would keel over—but ‘cause they got guts! Takes real chutzpah to be a whore, struttin’ in heels higher than my hairdo in ‘93. *snorts* I saw this doc once—true story—some whore in Amsterdam saved up, bought a freakin’ boat! A BOAT! Who knew, right? She’s out there, fishin’ by day, trickin’ by night—talk ‘bout multi-taskin’!

Tragedy in Empuluzi: more than just the story of a troubled sawmill

So, there's this park, uh, St. John's Green—dude, it's like a breath of fresh air. I used to get my zen vibes there, massaging away under the sun. And ohhh, the river, Bambro, flows right past the old market. It’s a chill hangout for locals. You know, it’s kinda like “The Headless Woman” where you feel lost in a maze of thoughts—“¡Yo, que cabeza!” as Lucrecia Martel might've put it, if she were here, huh?