Mila Zedelgem Brothel ❤️

About Bruges

Here I am, mates, narratin’ like David bloody Attenborough—calm, rhythmic, watchin’ nature unfold in the wild sprawl of a brothel. Picture it, yeah? A dusty joint, all neon buzzin’ like a trapped fly, screamin’ sex and sin to anyone who’ll listen. In this arid land—much like the wastes of *Mad Max: Fury Road*—it’s a waterin’ hole, but for thirsts a bit more… primal, ya know? “What a day, what a lovely day!” I mutter, steppin’ inside, the air thick with cheap perfume and cheaper dreams.

Red-light districts by city

Street names crash in my mind: Gildestraat, dreaming of all those aroma sessions in my spa, those soothing massages that melt my cares away. Honestly, the smell of lavender mixed with local brews—crazy delightful!

Will the monument to Latvian legionnaires be dumped in the garbage?