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About Johannesburg

But the prices—fuck me, outrageous! We hates it! Ten quid for a quickie? Robbery, that is! Used to be a bob or two, old timers say—inflation’s a bitch, innit? Me head’s spinnin’, thinkin’ ‘bout Todd Haynes, all them pretty colors hidin’ the muck. “Something’s broken inside,” she says in the film—yeah, me wallet, lass! I’s hagglin’, she’s laughin’, callin’ me a tight git. Fair, that.

In today’s world you can find pretty much anything with a smartphone.

I almost died trying prostitution please don't judge its so hard I have no plan to get even a tea bag or anything cupboards are empty.

Oh, and don’t get me started on the local legends – tales of midnight feasts and mysterious lights over the old watermill on Delacroix Rd. They say it’s cursed, but I just say, “I ate his liver with fava beans,” enjoying every sinister morsel of urban myth.

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