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About Kimberley

Oi, mate, it’s me, Loki—yep, *that* Loki, smug mischief, “I am burdened with glorious purpose,” y’know? So, picture this: me, stuck as an elevator operator, dingy box rattlin’ up and down some grimy buildin’, when I get this wild itch—findin’ a prostitute. Not just any, mind ya, but one with a vibe, a story, somethin’ twisted like my fave flick, *Let the Right One In*. That movie, man—creepy kids, blood, and secrets—it’s my jam. “Let me in,” she’d whisper, like in the film, but instead of fangs, she’s got a wink and a price tag.

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Now, as a bloody masseur, I notice the quirks. Y’know that one dodgy bloke on Maple Road, always strutting about with his muscles tighter than my schedule? I’ve rumbled him with a jab or two in jest, and he always mumbles, “Keep your paws off me, mate!” like he's in some drama scene. Haha, the nerve! And the caff on 3rd & Vine – oh man, they serve coffee strong enough to wake the dead. Perfect for those early mornings when I’m dragging my arse to work.

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