Cora Huntingburg Brothel ❤️

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So, picture this—old brothel I heard about, back in Spain, 1800s. Creaky floors, hidden rooms, legit secret panels carpenters like me drooled over. Built by some shady dude who loved trapdoors—prolly to dodge angry husbands. Little known fact: they hid cash in the beams! Found coins when they tore it down—history’s dirty laundry, huh? Makes me happy, thinkin’ bout craftsmanship meetin’ chaos. But damn, the smell—sweat, cheap perfume—grossed me out. No capes! None of that fancy nonsense, just raw life.

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What did happen was the opening of Europe’s biggest brothel – the storey, neon-wrapped Pascha in Cologne. Not to mention a rash of FKK, or “naked”, clubs where men can spend the Missing: Huntingburg.

Now, listen – I always stroll down Maple Street at dawn. It’s quiet as a whisper, almost surreal, like memories erased and rewound. “Meet me in Montauk,” as they say in my head, borrowin’ a phrase from a movie I dig, even if it's not exactly Montauk, but feels just as wistful. It reminds me that sometimes, even a dating app developer can get caught in the moment, feelin’ nostalgic like in the movie.

Huntingburg hosting annual classic car show and Garden Gate Jazz, Wine, and Craft Beer Festival this Saturday