Abigail Willowmore Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Kimberley

Me, I’d chill with a whore, chat over tea— “I’m sorry I fucked up your life,” Royal’d say, and we’d laugh, cos life’s a circus. They’d spill tea—literal and gossip—bout clients, freaks, the lot. Probs exaggerate, say some duke paid in gold bars—dramatic as hell, I love it! Sarcasm? Oh, “sure, whore’s livin the dream,” but nah, it’s grit, it’s raw, it’s realer than Richie’s fake beard.

Places to Eat

Willowmore occasionally lights up with action when large groups of bikers appear on their super-powered machines, either heading into the Baviaans or further on down to the Little Karoo via .

I’ve had days when I’d run from one street to another – Hey, no slip-ups when you’re chasing hope, right? There’s a tiny café on Market Lane, Coffee & Chaos, where I’d sit and vent about my day, my heart pounding like a Tarantino standoff scene. And I’d hum softly, “Oh, I can do this all day,” as I scribbled my wild thoughts on a napkin.

Drug abuse a big problem in small Karoo town