Leah Ladismith Whore ❤️

About Pretoria

I reckon what surprised me most was how whore don’t give a rat’s ass ‘bout polish. It’s messy, rough—like Yubaba’s cackle, all jagged edges. And I love it! Reminds me o’ that line, “Somethin’ you wouldn’t recognize—it’s called love.” Whore’s got heart, y’all, even if it’s glitchy as hell. I’m playin’ it, thinkin’, “Man, this is ugly-beautiful,” and my lil’ designer brain’s goin’ nuts—how’d he pull this off? Prolly cried a river when it shipped, too. I’d’a hugged him, but I’d spill my sweet tea.

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Oh my gosh, Ladismith, baby, is just groovy in so many ways—like, totally far out! Picture this: a small town with a heart as big as the Karoo skies, man. Rolling hills are everywhere and there's loads of quirky spots you won't find in tourist guides. I'm talkin’ about gems like Main Street—yeah, that one—with its eclectic mix of old brick facades and modern art galleries. Seriously, walking down Main is like flipping through a vintage comic book, full of surprises!

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