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About Kimberley

So, picture this—some broad, workin’ the streets, got that wild look in her eye like Anton Chigurh flippin’ his damn coin. “Call it, friendo,” she’d say, smirkin’, while she’s countin’ her cash. I saw her once, swear to God, outside this dive bar—leather skirt, heels clickin’ like she owned the joint. Made me mad as hell, tho—why’s she gotta hustle like that? World’s messed up, man. But then, I was kinda impressed—girl’s got guts, ya know? Takes balls to roll like that, no backup, no nothin’.

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The local markets at Jackson’s Corner? Man, those are prime spots! Spices mix in the air, people chattin' so fast I can barely keep up. It’s like therapy every day, watching souls collide and merge just like in a messed up film scene. I’d say, “They can take my thoughts, but they can't take my spirit” – if Son of Saul had such lines then, right? I mean, sweet chaos in simplicity.

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