Olivia Mankoeng Brothel ❤️❤️

About East London

Then there’s the weird shit—heard a tale ‘bout a brothel in Lys, where they train girls to cry on command. Tears for extra gold, fuckin’ wild! Customers lap it up, think it’s real passion. Made me chuckle, then gag—pathetic sods. “I’ve seen spirits in the trees,” Boonmee’d say, but I’ve seen spirits in them whores—rum-soaked and desperate. One time, this bloke—big as a horse—passed out mid-shag. Girls robbed him blind, left him in the street. Laughed my arse off, happiest I’d been all week.

Word History

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Now, oh, let’s talk about the back alleys of East Mankoeng. Seriously, get lost there – in a good way. Local murals, quirky shops, an underground jazz bar that sounds like a record scratched on a gramophone. I always shout out, “this is f’n brilliance!” when I drop by. The art speaks directly to my tortured soul, mate.

Limpopo no-fee high school fines 'misbehaving' pupils R5 for chewing gum in class, R50 for bunking