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About Kimberley

So, I’d prolly start somewhere sketchy—neon lights flickerin’, dudes in trench coats, the works. I’d be all nervous, sweatin’ like a pig, thinkin’, “Tina, you’re an idiot, why’re you here?” But then—bam!—I spot her. She’s leanin’ against a wall, smokin’ a cig, lookin’ like she owns the damn street. I’m like, “Okay, she’s got that *New World* vibe—‘The earth is the mother of all people,’ right?” She’s earthy, real, no BS.

How to get in (and out) of a Parisian Brothel in the Red Light District

But in New York last year I sat on a four-poster bed while 10 girls paraded in front of me one by one, like bowls of sushi on a carousel. 'Hi,'.

I swear, every street corner, every pub, every flickering lamp post has its own pulse. Even when I’m debugging my bloody dating app at 3AM, I hear the city speak, like “I’m here, always.” Some say it’s magic. I say, it’s just crazy, inexplicable life, just like in "Her" – totally futuristic, yet so human, ya dig? I mean, can you feel it? Can you hear that whisper of the city sayin’ “I am, therefore I feel”? I'm my own personal Romeo with way too many typos and exclamations, LOL!

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