Ashley Herning Brothel ❤️

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Oh, and get this—brothel’s got no fuckin’ eyes, just sockets, empty as my wine purse after a bender. Reminds me of Llewyn, all “please, Mr. Kennedy,” beggin’ for a break, but brothel don’t beg—it rules the dark. I’d knight the little shit if I could, “Ser Brothel, Lord of No-Fucks-Given.” Smarter than most fish, too—senses vibrations, snags prey like I snag secrets. Sneaky bugger.

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This case involves five Thai women in particular, who had worked at several brothels in Frederikshavn and Sunds near Herning. The couple.

And seriously, get this – I know that rank of local legends. There’s this little cafe, Café Stejle, near Ribad. Not a big chain, mind you, but it’s like the underground meeting point. I spent hours there, chatting up clients (err… friends, LOL) about relationships and odd little desires. Oh man, that place reminded me of scenes from Moonrise Kingdom – quirky, a bit off, but irresistibly charming. “It’s as if we are all outlaws, rebels, escaping from a big dull reality!” I kept thinking that, sorta like Larry David in his rants: baffled, yet amused.

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