Category Archives: Fun and Games

Hobby and Personal Interest Category for Blog on the personal website of Independent Tall MILF Manchester Escort KimberlyC Independent Manchester Escort in City Centre Manchester, Oxford, Glasgow and London.

Would You Like a Discount?

Most independent escorts will bristle if you ask them to give them a discount. We take it as a personal affront as if our very worth were being weighed and adjusted according to someone else’s criteria. And, to be honest, someone who asks for a discount on rate will often push other boundaries within the booking. As the old saying goes, “If you give a mouse a cookie, he’s going to want a glass of milk.”

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Greedy little mouse!

But, sometimes a discount can make sense in business. Why not reward those who follow my blog? Why not encourage those who think I’m interesting to come and see me?

I have an email subscription form over there on the left-hand side of the page. I am hoping to use it to keep people up-to-date on what I’m doing and where I am. I am often asked to get in touch when I am back in Oxford or Glasgow or the City of London, but I have no system of doing so. It’s simply not acceptable for an escort to text a client out of the blue and so I have never kept a list of contacts.

But I think a non-spammy newsletter – with links to recent blog posts, updates on my tour schedule, the odd raunchy photo and special offers – would be fantastic.

I’m going to keep it fun – because sex is fun. And I’m going to keep it discreet; your email address will never be shared with anyone else. You can unsubscribe at any time. But please give a try!

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KimberlyC: mature Manchester independent escort

(This is the personal website of Kimberly C, a mature American Escort who tours London, Oxford, Glasgow, and other British cities.)

London, Cardiff, Leeds, and the Oxford Comma

I’ve been travelling a bit, lately, and not all of it has been touring for work. Some of it has been sheerly for pleasure. (Well, work can be sheer pleasure, as well!)

I recently went to a little two-day metal “festival” in Cardiff. It was at a fantastic venue called Fuel Rock Club very close to the Castle in the centre of the town.

eradication

I had originally planned to stay the week in Cardiff and work there as a tour stop, but the lure of London was too great and so I only came for the weekend. My train from London to Wales was very slow as it wound all over the countryside, practically circling Swinton. At least I was able to upgrade to first class for £15 and enjoyed the passing scenery in comfort. I even got a good look at one of the Wiltshire white horses, but not the truly ancient one.

I thought Cardiff itself was fantastic. The narrow ancient streets converted into Victorian shopping arcades were beautiful and I discovered a place that does proper, authentic New York subs. The New York Deli in the High Street Arcade is run by an American woman who has her pastrami and corned beef specially made to be the Real Deal and their sandwiches – washed down with root beer – are delicious. They are also ridiculously large to the point of being difficult to eat. I got cole slaw up my nose with every bite, but it was worth it.

new-york-deli

The festival was great fun. I saw a few familiar faces from other gigs around Britain, and a few of my friends’ bands played it so I felt totally at home. For me, the highlight of the weekend was Desecration’s headline set on Saturday. Classic, awesome Welsh death metal! And Fuel is a wonderful little pub. The only drawback was some sort of drainage problems on Womanby street that gave off a pretty awful stench of sewage whenever you went outside. Luckily, I am a non-smoker so I didn’t have to stand outside very often!

I really enjoyed my train ride back up to Manchester, as I saw a lot of “How Green Was My Valley” scenery through the South of Wales. Going through Hereford was a treat, as well. I used to live in Gloucester and always thought that Herefordshire was the loveliest place… it’s like time has bypassed that little corner of England and there’s something about the red brick parsonages and rolling green hills that has an almost soporific effect on me. I really want to get back down there again, soon.

In the meantime, I have a second visit to Liverpool planned for this week. My first visit was pretty successful. Although nothing like as busy as London, I thought I did well there, especially considering the week I was there was before Easter and a great many schools were on holiday. I love Liverpool and go there frequently for gigs. Staying there for several days gives me an opportunity to see more of the town. Even though I tend to be very disciplined when I tour and rarely leave the hotel, I make a point of getting out for a nice meal or walk to a pub and I am gagging to pay a second visit to the Walker Art Gallery. What a fantastic museum!

rembrandt_self-portrait

I had planned to visit Leeds in the middle of May but a friend of mine went and encountered disaster. The hotel I’d booked – a chain for which I have a loyalty card and a hotel that has long been considered very easy to work from – has suddenly installed keycard locks blocking the lifts! My friend had paid in advance (very tempting to do when the rates are so much better) and so she was out of pocket with no place to work. She chose to pay for another hotel and so ended up only slightly in profit for the week. While I could also book the same second hotel she did, she felt that the business was a bit slow. A few other girls have had similar disappointing tours of Leeds and so I decided to cancel my booking and go to Oxford, instead. I have a friend who does well there. Plus, I’ve always wanted to see the town and I’m excited about my hotel, which is a nice one located a bit out in the countryside on the river. I don’t know how much site-seeing I’ll get to do, but I anticipate at least a couple of nice walks or runs along the river.

Working as an escort should be fun, and I am really enjoying touring. It’s great to have my base in Manchester, where I can offer incalls from my own flat in the city centre, but I’ve been bitten by the touring bug and I anticipate a lot more travel in my future.

A day off!

I suppose I need to stop buying sandwiches and poncy salads from Tesco express as they are probably the culprit behind my waking up with an upset tummy this morning. I get to spend the day at home watching movies in front of the fire. I’m going to catch up on all the new-to-me releases on Virgin On Demand.

I like some pretty dumb movies. I like horror movies, but not slasher ones like Saw. I am also a sucker for romantic comedies. And action! I do love some action movies, although there aren’t that many very good ones.

Someone asked me what my five favourite movies were and I just drew a blank at the time. Since then, I’ve mulled it over and I think they are:

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Every MILF’s dream…

1. Die Hard. This movie is perfect. The plot is perfect. The acting is great. It’s exactly what an action movie should be. Sure, shit blows up, but it relies primarily on plot and characters to be entertaining. By the way, Air Force One is pretty much the same movie on an airplane and I love that one, too.

2. Gone With The Wind. Because it’s Gone With The Wind and I’m a girl. Duh.

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Yeah, I know I’m pretty…

3. True Romance. What a cast! And has there ever been a finer performance than the stand-off between Clarence and Drexel? White Boy Day indeed!

American
“That boy is good!”

4. Coming To America. I never, ever get tired of this silly movie and I’ve probably watched it thirty times. I probably know every line. No matter! It’s always funny. SEXUAL CHOCOLATE!

5. Huh… picking number five is hard! OK. The Forty-Year-Old Virgin. I love all of Seth Rogan’s movies. I love the way there’s always a Judeo-Christian moral with a twist. This adds poignancy to them and sets them apart from the other crude boy-humour comedies.

So, I’m clearly not a very high-brow movie watcher. If I want a Henry James story then I will read a Henry James novel. When I’m sat in front of the boob tube, I want shit to blow up and the hero to say “Yippie-Ki-Yay Motherfucker.”

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I am! I am going to Hell!

I went ahead and bought the ticket to Hellfest. So that’s me going to France in June. Woo!

The ticket to the festival was priced in Euros so I don’t really know how much I paid. I know how much I paid for my flight to Nantes, though: too damned much. I just love when the booking site, after I’ve entered in my credit card info and clicked “purchase” comes back and tells me that the price has doubled with extra fees. But I went ahead and hit the “purchase” button again because I am too lazy to take a coach or a train.

I will have to purchase a tent and other necessary items in Clisson. This is not going to be the glamping I’m used to. But the bands I’m going to see are awesome!

So, that was my gift to myself. I didn’t get much else, other than several boxes of chocolates from the boys and a new Bill Bryson book called One Summer: America 1927. I love Bill Bryson and think his Notes From a Small Island should be issued to every expat Yank upon entering the country. Anyway, I am just about to start reading it, as I finished The Kreutzer Sonata this evening.

(Hello Google SEO Crawler Bot Thingies That I Don’t Understand! Herein lies the paragraph where I bang on about the fact that I am an escort in Manchester. Because I am an independent escort in Manchester City Centre. That is to say, I offer incall escort services at an incall location in Manchester city centre. I really don’t know what else to tell you, really. SLAYER!)

What I’m Reading Now

Being an independent escort in Manchester isn’t all glamour and excitement, you know. Sometimes I just sit around in my underwear waiting for the phone to ring. And while I can fritter away many an hour just fussing with my hair and commenting on the Metal Sucks blog, I do sometimes manage to read the odd book now and then.

Today I started to read The Kreutzer Sonata by Tolstoy. Miranda at Terrorizer Magazine told me it was her favourite book a few weeks back and I put it on my mental to-read list. It’s too early to say what I think of it, but I have high hopes for it. I’ve read Anna Karenina and The Death of Ivan Illych, but I didn’t get more than a hundred or so pages into War and Peace before life interfered and I had to set it down. It’s not the sort of book you can just pick up and leave off casually, and I’m going to have to set aside some real quality time before I start it, again. I’m not really in any hurry because I have the feeling that once I’ve read War and Peace, there’s never going to be another book as good and that will make me sad.

I would say that Anna Karenina is the best book I’ve ever read. I am not a great judge of literature and I’m not widely read, so my opinion probably doesn’t mean much. But I am in awe of Tolstoy’s writing. He writes like God. I am not even sure if there is a God, but reading Tolstoy makes me think there must be. He somehow knows things that he couldn’t possibly know. Like what it’s like to die, or what it’s like to nurse an infant. And he writes very simply. There are no fancy flourishes of writerly showmanship. Everything is very clear and very straightforward. He just seems to reflect an objective truth about life in every passage.

I’ve read some of his non-fiction as well. His Confession, which is an explanation of his life-long spiritual quest for religious truth, mirrored very closely that which is experienced by Levin in Anna Karenina. And I really enjoyed his book What is Art? He starts out attempting to define the word “art” and arrives at something along the lines of “art is the means by which a person uses sound, movement, words, shapes, colours or lines to transmit an emotion to another person.” I really should look up exactly what he wrote, but that book is downstairs and my bed is too cozy. I was just impressed at his ability to come up with a definition of “art” that seemed more satisfactory than any other attempt I’d ever read. And his description of an evening he spent watching an opera by Wagner had me laughing out loud. I am not entirely sure that I agreed with his entire argument, as it ends up saying that about the only worthwhile art is folk art, but I really enjoyed reading what he had to say.

Probably my favourite thing Tolstoy ever wrote, however, was an essay on Shakespeare. Until I read it, I thought that I was somehow fundamentally missing something because I just don’t see what the big deal about Shakespeare is. I thought that I must be somehow very stupid. But Tolstoy is clearly not stupid and this is what he had to say:

I remember the astonishment I felt when I first read Shakespeare. I expected to receive a powerful esthetic pleasure, but having read, one after the other, works regarded as his best: “King Lear,” “Romeo and Juliet,” “Hamlet” and “Macbeth,” not only did I feel no delight, but I felt an irresistible repulsion and tedium, and doubted as to whether I was senseless in feeling works regarded as the summit of perfection by the whole of the civilized world to be trivial and positively bad, or whether the significance which this civilized world attributes to the works of Shakespeare was itself senseless. My consternation was increased by the fact that I always keenly felt the beauties[5] of poetry in every form; then why should artistic works recognized by the whole world as those of a genius,—the works of Shakespeare,—not only fail to please me, but be disagreeable to me? For a long time I could not believe in myself, and during fifty years, in order to test myself, I several times recommenced reading Shakespeare in every possible form, in Russian, in English, in German and in Schlegel’s translation, as I was advised. Several times I read the dramas and the comedies and historical plays, and I invariably underwent the same feelings: repulsion, weariness, and bewilderment. At the present time, before writing this preface, being desirous once more to test myself, I have, as an old man of seventy-five, again read the whole of Shakespeare, including the historical plays, the “Henrys,” “Troilus and Cressida,” the “Tempest,” “Cymbeline,” and I have felt, with even greater force, the same feelings,—this time, however, not of bewilderment, but of firm, indubitable conviction that the unquestionable glory of a great genius which Shakespeare enjoys, and which compels writers of our time to imitate him and readers and spectators to[6] discover in him non-existent merits,—thereby distorting their esthetic and ethical understanding,—is a great evil, as is every untruth.

Wow! Bold words!

He then goes on to use King Lear as an example in order to point out what he considers ridiculous about Shakespeare’s plays. In short, he finds the characters and their actions too illogical to be even remotely believable. I suffered through King Lear at university and, while I wasn’t clever enough to recognise what I hated about it at the time (probably because I was too busy trying to figure out what the archaic language meant), I think I was underwhelmed because the entire story just seemed ridiculous and hysterical.

As is so often the case, I need someone far smarter than myself to tell me why I liked or didn’t like something. I will like or dislike according to my own tastes, but I cannot always identify what is making the impression upon me. I am not very good at analysing literature at all. Even the most profoundly affecting books have to slowly percolate through me over months and even years until I come across something or someone in my life that mirrors what I have gleaned from reading. Then I will think “Oh! He is just like that old preacher in Light in August!” and I will then understand both that person and the book where before I did not.

Am I Going To Hell?

I really want to go to Hellfest in France next year… I mean, just look at this lineup:

hellfest 2014 bill

Slayer! And Carcass! And Hatebreed! And Goreguts! And… well, I won’t go on and on about it. Let’s just say that there are an awful lot of bands there that I’d love to see, and I’m not even really looking at the main stage. This thing is massive!

But it’s in France, in a town called Clisson near the west coast. How would I get there? More importantly, how would I get there with all my stuff? Because I am not one for roughing it. I like to take a big teepee, several self-inflating mats, duvets, a camping toilet, a couple of folding chairs, an ice cooler, and lots of clothes. I won’t be able to drive there so that would leave travelling by some sort of public transportation and that means travelling light. No can do.

But… I don’t know. I look at that line-up and I just want to buy my ticket and worry about the logistics later.

Maybe I’ll just vacillate and kvetch about it until the tickets are all sold out.

(And now the paragraph for the SEO bots in which I keep talking about how I’m an independent escort in Manchester who does incall as a Manchester escort. Because it’s very important that I keep harping on the fact that I am a Manchester Escort with an incall escort flat in Manchester City Centre. I think that should suffice.)