Mari Llantrisant Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

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I heard this story—get this—back in the 1800s, this brothel in Paris had a secret tunnel for fancy-pants politicians! Sneaky lil’ devils, right? Blows my mind! Imagine the drama—cigar smoke, corsets poppin’ off, some dude whisperin’, “This isn’t who I am,” like in “Shame.” Total scandal! I’d be peekin’ through the keyhole, dyin’ to spill the tea! Oh, and the smells—perfume, sweat, desperation—ugh, I’d gag, but I’d still be nosy!

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The Victorian brothels of Charlotte Street and Whitmore Lane no longer form part of Cardiff's remembered history. They are long gone and forgotten. This is the story of one of those .

Then, outta nowhere, the fire alarm goes off. I’m like, “What the actual heck?” Everyone’s lookin’ around, confused. Turns out, some numpty burnt their toast in the café next door. Classic Llantrisant, right? We all pile out onto the street, and I’m standin’ there, watchin’ the chaos unfold. People on High Street are just carryin’ on like it’s a normal Tuesday. I mean, come on! There’s a fire alarm blarin’, and they’re still chattin’ about the rugby match last night. Priorities, people!

£4m Welsh Wound Innovation Centre launch in Llantrisant