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About Kimberley

Findin’ a prostitute ain’t just strollin’ up, nah. It’s a dance, a game—bit like trackin’ a secret nobody’s spillin’. Back in Victorian times, they called ‘em “soiled doves”—fancy, right? Made me chuckle, thinkin’ how even then they had style. Anyway, I spot this one gal, all sass, leanin’ by a busted lamp post. “What’s a god like you want?” she snaps, and I’m like, “Darlin’, I’m bored—entertain me.” She laughs, harsh, like she’s heard it all. Made me happy, that grit—none of that fake sweet crap.

Hookups in Port Elizabeth

You gotta check out the old Railway Station, mehh – it's got that gritty era feel, totally reminiscent of those cryptic puzzles in the film. Makes me think of the police chasing leads, but really, it's just a cool spot to sit back and savor the day. Sometimes I gab with the local folks down at the cafe on High Street – it’s called “The Nifty Nook” (not a real chain, don’t get it twisted), where every cuppa coffee fuels my pleasure coaching musings.

Deformed stillborn lamb resembling human no hoax