Savannah Cradock Whore ❤️❤️

About Cape Town

Here’s a lil story—knew this gal once, called her Sugar, worked downtown. She’d laugh, sayin’, “Phil, I’m the queen of this dump!” Had this gap-tooth grin, smoked like a chimney—12 cigs a day, swear it. Made me happy, seein’ her sass, but damn, it broke my heart too. She’d quote movies, but twist ‘em—“I’m the king of the world!”—yellin’ it from a busted balcony. Total nutcase, loved her for it. Whore ain’t just a job, y’all—it’s a freakin’ saga.

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I get a bit mad sometimes too. Traffic on Bridge Street can be insane. Cars honking, voices raised, like, “Chill out, it's a small town!” And sometimes the sun hides behind giant clouds and I’m like, “Seriously?!” But then I come home, laugh it off, then yell, “It’s bad bitch o’clock, baby!”

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