Gianna Port Elizabeth Whore ❤️❤️

About East London

So, whores—where do I start? Been around forever, right? Oldest job, they say—screw that “profession” crap, it’s survival! Back in the day, like ancient Babylon, whores were sacred—yeah, sacred! Priestesses bangin’ for the gods, wild, huh? But now? Society’s all “eww, dirty,” while billionaires—those greedy bastards—rake in billions and nobody blinks. Makes me mad as hell! “Billionaires should not exist!” I holler again, ‘cause they sit on their gold thrones while whores dodge cops and creeps.

Tatafu Polota-Nau out of Port Elizabeth clash

Rachel Moran grew up in Dublin. She came from an impoverished, troubled family. Both of her parents struggled with serious mental illness.

As a women’s counselor, I see voices from every corner. Sometimes I sit in a tiny park, like the one on Cambridge Terrace, listen to whispers of lost souls; I'm often touched by secrets shared 'bout life. I remember dis one day, I sat under a tree on Exeter Road near the Rhodin Street bridge over the Baakens River (oh, wait, is it river? sometimes my mind mix places, but okay, fun mix-up!). I had tea, listened to soul stories. So heart-warming sometimes, real raw.

Grobler & Saile boost SuperSport's survival hopes