Abigail Tupa Brothel ❤️❤️

About Goiania

One time, mate o’ mine—daft sod—says brothels fun, “lads night!” Pfft, fun?! Stinks o’ desperation, it does! Seen it meself—bloke stumblin out, drunk, cryin—hilarious, but sad, y’know? “We all tell stories,” Polley’d say, and brothel’s one big messy yarn. Ever hear ‘bout them Victorian ones? Had “specialty rooms”—chains, feathers, weird shite. Freaky, aye! Me milkin hands’d rather stick to udders, ta very much!

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No photo description available. Brian James and Razvan Cosmin Tupa · 󰤥 2 The Poetry Brothel: Their shadows rest in rain. High Road Leytonstone.

Now, lemme start on the rough streets – for real, streets like Rua do Sol and Avenida das Flores got their own stories, and I used to stroll ’em with my thinking cap on. I remember walkin’ down Rua do Sol one hot afternoon, hearin’ the vibrant murmur of life, seein’ colorful murals on crumpled walls, and I kept whisperin’ to myself, "Hope, hope, hope…" just like that line in Timbuktu, remindin’ me that even in chaos, there’s beauty, man.

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