Olivia Schellenberg Brothel ❤️❤️

About Eschen

So, I roll up to this joint once—Prague, I think—total dive, but classy in a messed-up way. Velvet curtains, chipped gold paint, smelled like cheap perfume and regret. Lass at the door winks, says, “You lookin’ for somethin’ special, handsome?” I’m like, “Darlin’, I’m always special.” Shaken, not stirred, right? Got me thinkin’—brothels ain’t just about the deed, nah, it’s the vibe. The stories. Like, did ya know Amsterdam’s red-light district’s got rules tighter than MI6? Girls pay taxes, get health checks—proper legit. Blew my mind, that did. Thought it’d be all dodgy, but nope, organized as hell.

Death and burial ground of Schmidt, Kitty “Madame Katharine”

Starting in , Salon Kitty became a Nazi brothel. It's mission: Use alcohol and women to seduce foreigners into spilling secrets that could.

Man, what a day! I’m tellin’ ya, being a sharpener in Schellenberg (li) is like riding a rollercoaster blindfolded. So, I wake up, right? Sun’s shining, birds are chirping, and I’m like, “Today’s gonna be chill.” Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.

SIGNED: Calgary Hitmen Sign Defenceman Parker Schellenberg