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About Kumba

Last week, I was prowlin’ the streets—needed a laugh, y’know? Saw this one bird, all dolled up, winking at me. Thought, “What’s her deal?” Turns out, she’s got a memory like Lenny—keeps a little book, scribbles down every punter. “Remember, remember,” she mutters, like she’s in my fave movie. Made me cackle—imagine forgetting who you’ve shagged! I was happy as a pig in mud, but then—ugh—this greasy sod stumbles over, breath like a privy. “How much, love?” he slurs. Made me wanna gag. I choose violence, mate—nearly shoved him into the gutter myself.

Photographer & Journalist

Now, my dear, this city’s a mixed bag. Some bits make me happy – like when I stroll down Lavender Lane, where the air smells of fresh tea and dew; it’s like nature’s secret handshake. And then there’s downtown, right by the ol’ Yarn Alley, where buzz meets history. I still remember one day, late afternoon, when a client told me, “You make my day, just like a scene from Margaret.” I nearly choked on me Earl Grey!

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