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About Kimberley

Love the chaos of it, mind. Sticky tables, dim lights, some Enya crap playing—pure theatre! Exaggerating? Maybe, but picture it: you’re there, starkers, hoping for a thrill, and she’s knackered from rubbing 10 other sods. “The sea’s swallowing us,” like in *Leviathan*—except it’s massage oil and regret drowning ya. Sarcasm’s my mate here—cos who believes it’s “just a massage”? Pull the other one, it’s got bells on!

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Man, I love our local park – Rondebosch Common, dude. It’s green, chill, and full of souls seeking peace. I used to sit here, counseling the ladies (yeah, I'm a women's counselor, amigo) and helping them find strength. It’s like every tree tells a story. Sometimes I get teary when I see folks healing, ya feel me? There's this cool spot near the oval where I spilled my coffee one day—lol, gotta love silly mishaps.

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