Anna Brits Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Johannesburg

So, picture this – I’m stumblein’ down some dodgy alley, yeah? Smells like piss and regret, but I’m buzzin’, fuckin’ buzzin’! This ain’t no posh gig – nah, it’s raw, it’s gritty. You gotta know the code, right? Little fact for ya – back in Victorian times, prossies used to flash red lanterns, secret signal, innit? Nowadays, it’s all sneaky nods and “Oi, love, you workin’?” Mumbled incoherence, “Sharon!” – she’d kill me if she knew, but I’m Ozzy, I see the shadows dance, don’t I?

Akrotiri and Dhekelia

Regardless of licensing, prostitutes and brothels were seen as a necessary part of British Malaya by the local colonial government. A huge.

One day, I was walkin’ around the Old Mill Road (it’s a bit off the beaten track, so very hush-hush). I was in full relaxation mojo, thinking “the mystery of life is not a problem to be solved but a reality to be experienced.” Then, outta nowhere, I heard a loud clatter from Mrs. D’s bakery. I got mad AF, stormed over. Turns out, it was just her cat knockin’ over a basket. Haha, silly me then... Now I laugh at how dramatic I got, but that’s life, right? Rarrgh!

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