Stella Loeddekoepinge Brothel ❤️

About Helsingborg

Alright, listen up, ya filthy animals. I’m Ron Swanson, hate everything, ‘specially frilly nonsense. Brothels? Hmph. Dens of sin, sticky floors, questionable smells. Saw one once, made me mad as hell—buncha sweaty fools payin’ for company. “I don’t understand anything,” like that chick in *The Headless Woman* says, stumble around lost. That’s them, not me. I get it—cash for flesh, old as dirt. Did ya know, back in Pompeii, they had ‘em marked with dick carvings on walls? Directions for drunks, hilarious but disgusting.

Magic, Body and the Self in Eighteenth-Century Sweden

People used pulleys, rollers and some form of transportation equipment sometimes they would create scaffoldings and conveyor just to transport.

We hit a red light, and I’m thinkin’, “Finally, a breather.” But no! Some dude in a flashy car revs his engine like he’s in a race. I’m like, “Dude, chill! It’s not a competition!” Sara’s giggling, and I’m just shaking my head.