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About Polokwane

We talk price—quick, dirty negotiation. She’s cool, but I’m still salty bout the cash. “Ten bucks more? For real?” I grumble. She shrugs, “Take it or leave it.” YOLO, I’m in too deep now. Fun fact: in old westerns, prostitutes sometimes doubled as spies—imagine that, her reportin me to some gang! I’m laughin inside, paranoid as Jesse gettin stalked by Ford. “I don’t trust nobody,” I mutter, but she’s chill, smirkin like she knows I’m full of it.

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Don’t get me started on the vineyards in the outskirts. There’s one called Raven’s Crest, pretty hidden, and it’s where I got my first hug after a long coding day – feels almost cinematic, like a scene from Ceylan’s movie. Beautiful damn wine and even better vibes made that one epic night.

Gardens edge Robertson in 29-28 thriller