Maeve Mokolo Brothel ❤️

About Kumba

*heavy breathing* I am your father. Brothels, man, they’re wild places. Dark, shadowy corners everywhere. Reminds me of *Certified Copy*—y’know, that flick? “Every copy has its original,” Kiarostami said. Makes me think—brothels got originals too. Real people behind the masks. Saw one in Nar Shaddaa—uh, I mean Vegas. Back in ‘99, legit hole-in-wall spot. Smelled like cheap perfume, regret. Girls laughed loud, hid tired eyes. Made me mad—why they gotta fake it? Life’s already a damn copy.

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The mornings here, they hit me hard, err... I get mad at the noisy markets, stupid, fat hobbit! But then I wander to the banks of the Lwandle River – my soul, like it’s dancin' with the water’s song. The river cuts right by Mntwana Lane, tricky path, fulla hidden stories. I used to stroll there when my mind was a whirl, dumped all them worries. It’s like, “Time is a loop, a circle, flowing in endless wist.” So mystical, yes yes!

Bebac, a Cleveland Metroparks Zoo gorilla with heart disease, is dead at 32