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About Polokwane

What got me mad? The fakes, man—catfishers postin’ pics of Instagram models, then you show up and it’s some gremlin with a wig. Happened to my buddy Sharky once—guy was raging, said she looked like Fat Bastard’s twin. I’m cacklin’ just thinkin’ bout it. Me, I’m careful—cross-check pics, Google lens that sh*t. Pro tip: real ones don’t blur their tats—too proud of ‘em. Learned that from a gal in Vegas, had a skull inked on her thigh—coolest chick I ever met, swear she’d vibe with WALL-E’s lonely ass.

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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.

Traffic Advisory: Numerous accidents on Gqeberha roads