Savannah Tarkastad Whore ❤️

About East London

I get happy thinkin’ she’s got grit—takes guts to hustle in a dump like that. But ugh, the stench of desperation? Makes me wanna puke. Ever smell a whore’s perfume mixed with cheap booze? It’s tragedy in a bottle, swear to God. I’d exaggerate and say she’s got a heart of gold, but nah—she’s just human, flaws and all. “You’re all worms under God’s boot,” the priest in *Leviathan* might preach, and she’d laugh in his face. Love that sass!

History of Tarkastad

Some spots are hidden. Like this tiny bookshop on Zenk Road. It’s almost secret. I pop in for my favorite quiet moment, grabbing books, and letting memories swirl – just like in those deep talks in Before Sunset. “You know,” I muttered there, lost between pages, “each book is a new beginning.”

Four family members killed in horror head-on collision in Eastern Cape