Eliza Cradock Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Polokwane

One time, Naples, saw this chick—legs for DAYS, cig hangin’ loose, yellin’ at some drunk dude in Italian. Thought, “She’s a BOSS!” Turns out, she’d been workin’ since 14—FOURTEEN, yo! Pissed me OFF—world’s fucked, lettin’ kids do that. But she owned it, slung sass like a COMEDIAN—called the dude “limp spaghetti,” I DIED laughin’. Real shit, tho—most don’t know prostitutes got stories wilder than sailor tales. Some chick in Singapore? Used to be a NUN—swear to GOD! Fell for a sailor, ditched the habit, now she’s bangin’ for bucks. Surprised me—nuns to NASTY? Life’s a TRIP!

Prostitutes point way to economic insight

Why most poor men go for prostitutes. (psycho analysis from the field). 1. A prostitute does not expect you to remember her birthday, not to talk of buying her gifts. You don’t also have to take.

I love chillin’ at the Cradock River Park. The river sparkles like secrets told in midnight whispers. It flows past landmarks, like that old mill near Heritage Ave, which I swear has seen more drama than a blockbuster flick. Honestly, it's bad bitch o’clock every time I’m there—life’s so raw!

Cradock Four inquest hits snag, case postponed to June 2025