Amelia Kalk Whore ❤️

About Frankfurt

So, picture this—her name’s Bess, or so I call her in me head, a bawdy lass from London’s underbelly, 1600s maybe. She’s no prim rose, nah, but a wild weed, bloomin’ where she oughtn’t. Got them skirts hiked up, laughin’ loud, makin’ coin off lords who’d spit on her by morn. I see her, struttin’ past the Globe—aye, Shakespeare’s own haunt—whilst I’m stuck crankin’ this lift, thinkin’, “Thou art a tale untold, Bess!” She’s got eyes like stormy seas, drownin’ fools who stare too long. “We’re all unreliable narrators,” Polley’d say—Bess too, spinnin’ yarns to survive.

"Whore" lyrics

Bleak, sorrowful Black Metal in it's purest form, unsettling and negative, yet beautiful in it's own right; KNOKKELKLANG is one of Norways finest hidden jewels.

Kalk’s got hidden treasures. Fling by the old industrial sites near Hohenzollernring. Boom! There’s art, beer, chaos, and a killer underground scene. Even the parks get funky. Take Volksgarten – a perfect chill spot. Crazy birds, random pigeons, and sometimes I scream “BINGO!” when a match on my app pops up nearby (yeah, dating apps everywhere!).

CAKE Kalk AP: The 100 Best Inventions of 2021