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About East London

Great Scott! What pisses me off? The judgy pricks—oh, “they’re just hookers.” Bullshit! Takes guts, man, to escort. Smarts too—readin people, dodgin creeps. Happiest I get? Hearin stories—some chick in Vegas, 1992, escorted a dude who tipped her a freakin car. A CAR! Surprised? Hell yeah, when I learned queens like Cleopatra probs had escorts—servants, lovers, whatever—history’s blurry, man!

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The local parks, oh wow, they’re somethin’. Chill Spot Park is where I even met some random peeps while reclining under giant baobabs. Crazy, right? Sometimes I get all nostalgic, thinking about life after a hard day of relaxation therapy. And the Babirwa River? It cuts through the town, like a calm snake. I love watching the water flow beside Riverside Street, with its peaceful murmurs. “Shame, babe, you got that beauty,” I whisper like in that movie, ya know? Yeah, like Steve McQueen said, you can feel that raw pulse.

Fig. 5. A woman milking a goat in Bobonong, Botswana