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About Mangaf

Got this story—heard it from a dodgy bloke in a pub. Back in Victorian times, right, some fancy brothel in London had a secret tunnel. Toffs’d sneak in, all posh and sneaky—didn’t wanna get caught with their trousers down! Cracked me up, thinkin bout them wigglin through dirt just for a shag. Proper mad, innit?

Touching things while in a state of sexual impurity

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But then, I remember my car. I rush back, and guess what? I locked my keys inside. Classic move, right? I’m standing there, laughing at myself. “What a day!” I finally call a locksmith, and while I’m waiting, I chat with some locals. They’re all like, “You’re the auctioneer? You’re famous!” I’m like, “Famous? Nah, just a guy who talks fast and sells stuff.”