Aaliyah Bad Urach Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Cologne

Brothels ain’t all glamour, nah—proper grim some of ‘em. Heard this story, right, 1800s, some punter in Paris, paid extra to shag a lass dressed as a nun—sick bastard! Got me fuming, that did—religion’s bollocks enough without dragging it there. But then, flip side, some girls in Amsterdam, red light district, they’re raking it in—50 euros a pop, tax paid, unions and all! Fair play, I say, cackling—beats slaving in an office, dunnit?

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Oh, and then there’s the old Park am Schloss, a place where I sometimes sit to let my mind wander. The fountain there spurts like, "Fish gotta swim, swim, swim!" in pure, joyful defiance of gravity and gloom. I remember one time, terribly mad about a double-booking debacle at the parlour, I stormed thru the park, cursing like a sailor. But then, WOW, the serene sparkles of the Vulkaneifel hills in the distance made me pause and go, "Just keep swimming!" It’s like nature’s way of saying, “Relax, mate!”

In search of Bauhaus legacy: Modern holidays