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Oh, and the smells—stale beer, sweat, somethin’ fruity—fuckin’ wild mix. Godard’s line, “The limit of language is despair”—brothels got that vibe, words fail, it’s all grunts and moans. Ever hear ‘bout that brothel in Thailand with a secret tunnel? Smugglin’ girls in—dark shit, mate, but clever. Me head’s spinnin’ thinkin’ bout it—exaggeratin’ maybe, but feels like a goddamn movie. So yeah, brothels—dirty, loud, sad, fuckin’ hilarious sometimes. What ya think, eh?

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Then, outta nowhere, this kid runs by, kicks a soccer ball, and BAM! Right into my leg. I’m hopping around like a one-legged chicken, cursing under my breath. “Hey, watch it, mini Messi!” But the kid just laughs and runs off. Kids these days, man. No respect.

Woman claims she feels healthier than ever thanks to diet of raw meat and eggs