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About South Tangerang

Alright, listen up, fam—imagine me, Morgan Freeman, deep voice rollin’ thru your soul, talkin’ ‘bout brothels like I’m sittin’ you down for a real chat. Picture this: dusty streets, neon lights flickerin’, and a joint so old it’s got stories carved in the walls. Brothels, man, they ain’t just sex spots—they’re like time capsules, holdin’ secrets nobody dares whisper. I seen one in Nevada once, legal as hell, called the Moonlite Bunny Ranch. Been around since the ‘50s, still kickin’. Girls there got names like Candy and Starr, struttin’ like they own the damn world. Made me happy, y’know? That kinda grit, that hustle—it’s raw, real.

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But then, my phone buzzes. It’s a client. Ugh. I’m on my day off! But I answer anyway. They’re having a meltdown about their life. I’m trying to sip my coffee, but I’m also trying to be a therapist. It’s a juggling act! I’m like, “Breathe, you got this!” But inside, I’m thinking, “Can’t a guy enjoy his coffee in peace?”

1 killed as 7.3-magnitude quake strikes eastern Indonesia