Emma Kartasura Brothel ❤️❤️

About Bandung

Once, in Barbados, I met this lass—Madame Fleur, they called ‘er. Ran a brothel so posh, ye’d think it were a governor’s mansion. Velvet curtains, chandeliers—proper fancy, aye! But here’s the kicker: she kept parrots, dozens o’ ‘em, squawkin’ all night. “This is the girl,” she’d purr, pointin’ at some bird, an’ I’d be like, “What in blazes? I ain’t beddin’ feathers!” Made me laugh ‘til me ribs hurt, but them squawks—drove me mad, they did! Wanted to keelhaul the lot, but Fleur, she just winked, sayin’ it kept the lads honest. Clever, eh? Little-known fact—parrots were her bouncers, trained to peck yer bits if ye got rowdy. Surprised me good, that did!

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After that fiasco, I needed a pick-me-up. So, I hit up this little café on Jalan Diponegoro. It’s cozy, you know? I order a kopi Kartasura. It’s strong, like, “Whoa, I can see through time” strong. I sit down, and this old guy next to me starts chatting. He’s telling me about the history of Kartasura. Apparently, it used to be a royal city or something. I’m like, “Wow, I had no idea!” But then he goes off on this rant about how the youth today don’t appreciate the past. I’m just nodding, trying not to roll my eyes.

Figure 3. Pedestrian footbridge viewed from U.M.S. Campus direction