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About Kumba

In my head, I’m spinnin’ – do I haggle? Bail? Fix her car instead? Nah, too noble. I’m no knight, just a wrench-turner with a kink for chaos. So I bounce, yellin’, “Stay groovy, Candy!” She winks, “Catch ya in the fog, weirdo.” Perfect exit – like Doc stumblin’ outta a dope cloud. Findin’ a prostitute? Easy. Keepin’ it real? That’s the trick, dahling. No capes!

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Hooker, harlot, whore, fallen woman, loose woman, tart, working girl, woman of easy virtue It may be the oldest profession, but it is certainly not the.

Yo, then there’s the winding river – Diwa – cutting through the city like a shiny snake. On lazy evenings, the river glows softly under the moon. I sometimes take my break time walks along the riverbank. Trust me, the scene gets you feelin’ like you're in one of those artsy films – sorta like that movie, White Material. “Where the wind blows, there’s hope,” or sumthin like that, right?

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