Megan Kareedouw Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Cape Town

Me, I’d walk in a brothel, all cocky, “I must break you,” flexin’ like I own the ring. But damn, it’d hit me—some girls there ain’t happy. Pisses me off, y’know? Dudes strollin’ in, actin’ like kings, but who’s really winnin’? Not them workers sometimes. Saw this doc once—girl said she made bank but hated the smell. Cigars, sweat, cheap cologne—gag city, man! Surprised me how real she kept it.

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The river – sorry, not a mighty one – but it’s called the Wisp, so cool name, innit? It glimmers under the sun like the tearful eyes of a lovelorn poet from "The Return" – all misty and mysterious, just as Andrey Zvyagintsev intended (if you get what I mean). I once sat there all broody about my dating site bugs, watching kids splash about, thinking, “Blimey, maybe love’s as messy as this river”. And honestly, it usually is.

Relief as missing Nelson Mandela Bay woman found safe in Kareedouw