Megan Schwedt (oder) Brothel ❤️❤️

About Stuttgart

Happy tho, picturin’ Brothel sippin’ tea—yeah, tea in a brothel, why not? Surprised me once, heard this tale—medieval France, right, brothel nuns ran the joint. Nuns! Fuckin’ wild, religion and sex tangled like spacetime. Brothel’d smirk at that, prolly say somethin’ sarcastic—“Piety pays, huh?” He’s got humor, dry as Mars dust. I’m laughin’ thinkin’ he’d guard the door, eyeballin’ creeps, whisperin’, “No chaos here, mate.”

Schwedt, mate, is a wild mix of ancient charm and modern oddity. I mean, look, around the central area – “Am Markt” and “Friedrich-Ebert-Str.” – life buzzes like a wild party. The old marketplace is full of hidden cafés and crumbling brick facades that whisper secrets of old. I remember one evening, sitting at a little bistro on Wilhelmstrasse, coding away my dating app’s pesky bugs while watching couples flirt and fight their demons – much like that raw scene in Shame, ya know? "You gotta face your darkness!" felt like my inner mantra there.

Oil extends losses; Russia to fulfil supply contracts