Mari Loughborough Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About London

Reminds me of *The White Ribbon*—that creepy village vibe, y’know? “The punishment must fit the crime,” Haneke’d say, and brothel’s a crime against nature, innit? Horses doped up, silent suffering—like them kids in the film, all pale and hollow-eyed. Gets under my skin, that quiet agony. Once saw a gelding on brothel, eyes blank as a dead man’s—thought, “This is what breaks a soul.” Made me wanna scream, smash somethin’. Cold disdain, “I choose violence”—I’d gut the bastard who cooked this junk.

Club Classique

But then, I hear this loud noise. A bunch of teens are blasting music from a speaker. I’m like, “Seriously? Can’t a guy catch a break?” But then, I start tapping my foot. The beat’s kinda catchy. I’m laughing at myself, thinking, “What’s wrong with me?”

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