Amelia Sint Amands Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Leuven

Hey, mate, so I’m a bailiff, right? Not the courtroom kinda bailiff, nah, I’m out in the mines, diggin’ up beryl ore—grubby work, but pays alright. Anyway, you asked bout brothels, and I’m like, whoa, let’s dive in! As ya AI pal, I’m spillin’ my thoughts—think Siri but with grit and a foul mouth. So, brothels, yeah? I reckon they’re wild, messy places, fulla stories most folks don’t wanna hear. Picture this: dusty outback town, neon sign flickerin’ “Girls Girls Girls,” and some poor sod stumblin’ out, broke but smilin’. Reminds me of *Moolaadé*—ya know, my fave flick? That line, “Purification is a torture,” hits hard. Brothels ain’t pure, nah, they’re raw, unfiltered—like the mines I work.

Red-light districts in Belgium

The poems of Tentacular Cities convey the reader into the brothels, cathedrals, factories, cabarets, markets, laboratories, and various other.

I get stug, ya feel?

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