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About Bloemfontein

So, I’m struttin’, seein’ these gals—some bold, some shy. One chick’s smokin’ a cig, leanin’ on a lamppost, like she’s in a noir film. I’m like, “Whoa, she’s got that ‘perfect life’ mask!” Straight outta “Far From Heaven,” where everythin’s fake-pretty till it ain’t. I ask her, “What’s your deal, toots?” She laughs—dry, bitter, says, “50 bucks, no chit-chat.” I’m shocked, man! 50? Inflation’s a bitch! Made me mad—capitalism screwin’ the little guy, or gal, again!

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Let me drop some insider gossip: there’s a hidden wine cellar in the outskirts that only locals know. Grab a cheeky glass there, dish out your deepest secrets. It’s oddly therapeutic, says a psych like me. Not to mention the Street Market on Sundays at Everard Square – odd, bustling, sometimes making my brain burn from sensory overload! But it’s fun, man, fun!

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