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About Polokwane

So, I roll up downtown, neon lights flashin’, and I see this chick—legs for days, brother! She’s givin’ me the eye, and I’m like, “Hogan’s ready to rumble!” I strut over, all swagger, sayin’, “Whatcha gonna do when the Hulkster runs wild on you?” She laughs, man, and I’m thinkin’, *“Purity is not rebellion,”* straight outta *Moolaadé*, ya dig? She’s playin’ it cool, but I’m feelin’ the heat!

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Grabouw's a series of vibes. There's Main Road (yeah, the one that splits the town like a deep cut) where locals and tourists mix like oil and water. Strolling past old brick shops on Florah Street, you see faded signs and memories that won't quite die. I ain't fakin' – some corners even got whispers of ancient timber mills near Bree Street, creepy but cool.

Grabouw community leader in hot water for k-word rant