Sofia Hietzing Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Graz

Fav part? The chaos. Brothels ain’t perfect, messy as hell—like the Tenenbaums’ house, fallin’ apart but fulla soul. “I’m going to lose my temper!”—me when some jerk stiffs a girl her pay. Hate that. Oh, and the smells—perfume, sweat, whiskey. Hits ya like a meteor. Exaggeratin’? Maybe. But damn, it’s a trip. Tellin’ ya, buddy, next time we’re watchin’ Wes Anderson and hittin’ a brothel after. Deal?

The history of brothels

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Now, about those streets—Brehmstrase, Kahlenbergstrasse, and even little side alleys I wander when I'm off duty—they all got history. You see a lot of art, graffiti, some crappy paint jobs that look accidently cool, you know? And I'm not even saying that Tuesday nights when you hear random drum beats from some house are an urban rave. That stuff keeps me on my toes, oddly enough.

Josef Frank’s Villa Beer is ripe for renovation