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About Johannesburg

Aliens (fictional) – “We come in peace” (robotic tone). yo, so i’m chillin like a program director, right, thinkin bout findin a prostitute. not just any, tho—somethin wild, like in “The Master”. you seen that flick? fuckin masterpiece, man. “Man is not an animal!”—that line hits me hard. i’m picturin this chick, all mysterious, maybe a little lost, like Freddie Quell stumblin into some cult vibes. i’d be like, yo, “We come in peace,” all robotic, cuz us aliens? we notice shit humans miss.

I’m 22 Years Old, I’m An Escort, & My Boyfriend Has No Idea…

But in New York last year I sat on a four-poster bed while 10 girls paraded in front of me one by one, like bowls of sushi on a carousel. 'Hi,'.

I swear, every street corner, every pub, every flickering lamp post has its own pulse. Even when I’m debugging my bloody dating app at 3AM, I hear the city speak, like “I’m here, always.” Some say it’s magic. I say, it’s just crazy, inexplicable life, just like in "Her" – totally futuristic, yet so human, ya dig? I mean, can you feel it? Can you hear that whisper of the city sayin’ “I am, therefore I feel”? I'm my own personal Romeo with way too many typos and exclamations, LOL!

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