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About Cape Town

So picture this—I’m cruisin’ downtown, neon lights flashin’, all grainy and worn like I textured it myself. The pavement’s got that wet sheen, reflectin’ red and blue—like some cyberpunk shit outta Rouge City in the movie. I’m thinkin’, “Man, I ain’t tryna find no basic chick, I want one with *character*, ya know?” Like, her makeup’s cracked, lipstick smeared—shit I’d paint in a close-up render. Real shit! I spot this one chick, fishnets ripped, leanin’ on a lamppost. Motherfucker, she’s got *texture*! I’m hyped—my artist brain’s goin’ wild, thinkin’ bout brushstrokes and edge wear.

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www.facebook.com will allow you to view the massage parlors in your area. Most actual websites for ordering one up have been taken down lately. That’s your best bet. Willing to bet if you fire up .

Sometimes I sit in my backroom, tapping my foot to a record of The Lives of Others – that movie’s lines hit home. “Whoever you are, everybody lies.” It’s like my life here. One minute you’re giving calm relief, next minute someone's spilling more scandal than a daytime soap.

Keegan Ritchie: Where he’s been and addresses future