Stella Rustenburg Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Cape Town

I’m watchin, thinkin, “Crikey, this ain’t Hollywood glam!” Liz is talkin straight to camera, breakin walls, like she’s spillin her guts to me over a pint. “You think you know me?” she’d say, smirkin – total Tenenbaums sass, like Margot’s deadpan stares. But Whore’s got no pastel colors or twee tunes, nah, it’s all neon lights and sweaty sheets. Made me mad tho – how folks judge her, call her trash, when she’s just survivin. Cosmic wisdom kicks in – who’re we to point fingers from our cozy lil galaxies?

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Bruh, Rustenburg might not be perfect, but it's real. Its flaws hit ya hard, but its soul, well, that's what makes it mesmerizing. I mean, its energy is unpredictable, like the movie's twists and turns – sometimes downright hilarious in its irony.

Rustenburg crime on the increase