Abigail Redhill Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Cape Town

Preciousss, listen up, ye filthy hobbitses! Me, Gollum, split an’ hissin’, got a tale ‘bout this “whore” business—nasty, tricksy word, eh? Ssss! Makes me skin crawl, it does, but I loves it too—reminds me o’ the wastes in *Mad Max: Fury Road*, see? “What a day, what a lovely day!”—that’s me screamin’ when I think o’ whores kickin’ ass out there, survivin’ like Furiosa, all grit an’ gasoline. Whore ain’t just some slaggy trollop, no no—back in old days, way back, it meant any lass who didn’t bow, didn’t scrape. Wild ones, them whores! Hiss! Me likes that, me does.

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The brothels would have been east of Nose Creek and the CP mainline - just south of Centre Avenue Self Storage.

I remember one particular day, not too long ago, when I was in a session with a client – real tough day – and I ended up takin' a break out to our favorite little diner, Redhill Diner on 2nd Avenue. I was ravein' 'bout all sorts of emotions, kinda like that movie, where you feel so many things that ya’re just overwhelmed. Our lovely diner owner, Miss Bella, pours out coffee like she's pourin’ love into each cup – mah, it got me teary-eyed, in that quirky, bittersweet way of life.

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