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About Johannesburg

We’re chattin’, and I’m thinkin’ *Boyhood* again—“It’s always right now,” y’know? This moment, her laugh, the cig smoke curlin’—it’s real, raw, fuckin’ alive. But then—bam!—some wanker in a beat-up Jag rolls up, yellin’ at her. Ex-pimp or some shit. I’m pissed, mate—nobody fucks with my night. I step in, all cool, “Oi, mate, piss off or I’ll rearrange ya.” He bolts, tires screechin’. She’s laughin’, says, “You’re mad, you are!” Happy as a pig in shit, me—saved the day, Bond-style.

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yo, lemme tell ya bout Modimolle (za) – this place is wild, I swear. it's small but bursting with quirks, like one of them unpredictable family sessions! So, picture this: I'm cruising down Schoeman Street – yeah, that’s one of the good ones – where the shops look like they’re straight outta my dreams. Literally every corner you turn, there's somethin’ odd but kinda lovable.

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