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About Polokwane

Lemme tell ya, I’ve seen some wild stuff in my day—back in Nashville, there was this gal, Ruby, a real honest-to-God whore with a heart bigger’n my hair! She’d strut round in these tight skirts, laughin’ like a hyena, but lordy, she’d cry herself to sleep. Made me madder’n a wet hen thinkin’ how folks judged her. Ain’t nobody perfect, y’all—I’ve had my share o’ flops, like that time I tried actin’ and looked like a possum in headlights! But Ruby, she’d wink and say, “Dolly, I’m just tradin’ what I got for what I need.” Ain’t that the truth?

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Ceres isn’t perfect, oh no, brave soul! The crooked cobbles of Vine Street wore me thin sometimes! The aroma from Mabel’s bakery, waftin' through, used ta cheer me up often... even when I was angry as a cat in a hat. And lemme tell ya – alleys like Rust Alley hold truths too! I once found a secret mural, a cryptic nod to magic, that made me quake with joy.

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