Ivy Strathmore Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Ey, Gabagool? Ova here! So, brothel, huh? I’m thinkin’, what a freakin’ racket! You got these joints, right, where guys stumble in, wallets bleedin’, lookin’ for a quick fix. Me? I’m sittin’ here, sippin’ espresso, wonderin’—how’s this even legal some places? Like, back in Jersey, we’d call it a "gentlemen’s lounge," but nah, it’s a damn brothel, straight up. Reminds me of that flick, *Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind*—y’know, “Blessed are the forgetful, for they get the better even of their blunders.” These schmucks walk outta there forgettin’ their mortgage payments! Hilarious, but kinda sad, too.

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Brooklawn, Strathmore & The Villa. Fitzroy Street, St Kilda. This story begins with three Brooklawns: two houses in St Kilda and the tiny village in Ireland after which they were named; .

I drop by Callahan Lane usually. There, the old brick buildings tell tales. They whisper secrets of resilience. I recall a day in July—scorching, but chill vibes all around. The air buzzed, like a movie scene unfolding in real time. "Our mission remains clear!" Like in Zero Dark Thirty, cool but intense.

Career fair attracts Strathmore job seekers