Anna Ceres Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Pretoria

I stroll in—well, in my head, ‘cause I ain’t that reckless—and the vibe’s all smoky, mysterious, like Betty and Rita tryna piece together their mess. “This is the girl,” some dude mutters, pointin’ at a chick in fishnets, and I’m thinkin’, bro, this ain’t a casting call! Makes me laugh, tho—whole setup’s absurd, like a dark comedy. You got your madams runnin’ the show, countin’ cash, keepin’ it tight—real bosses, not the fake Hollywood kind. Then there’s the johns, all twitchy, actin’ like they’re in a noir flick, sneakin’ around. Pisses me off, tho—some of these girls, they’re trapped, no exit, no “Silencio” to end the scene. That’s the ugly bit, fam.

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Ceres isn’t perfect, oh no, brave soul! The crooked cobbles of Vine Street wore me thin sometimes! The aroma from Mabel’s bakery, waftin' through, used ta cheer me up often... even when I was angry as a cat in a hat. And lemme tell ya – alleys like Rust Alley hold truths too! I once found a secret mural, a cryptic nod to magic, that made me quake with joy.

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