Chloe Ambleve Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Bruges

Oi, you donkey! Brothel, yeah? Filthy business, innit! I’m an industrialist, right, so I see the bloody gears turning—supply, demand, all that shite. Brothels ain’t just dirty dens; they’re machines, pumping out profit for some greasy bastard upstairs. Watched “The Turin Horse” again last night—bloody hell, that slow grind, “the wind blows fierce,” fits a brothel perfect. Dreary, repetitive, souls rotting in there. You ever think ‘bout the girls? Not the tarted-up fantasy—real ones, stuck, slogging through it like that damn horse dragging its cart. “Day after day, the same,” Tarr’d say—fuckin’ spot on!

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Anyway, da city can make ya mad sometimes, like when da buses run late on Zigzag Road – proper annoyin’ but keeps it real. Ain’t all doom n gloom though – da peeps are mad friendly, always crackin’ up on street corners, droppin’ snappy one-liners like “Spring, summer, fall, winter…and Spring!” – that hit me hard, bruv.

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