Ada Guider Brothel ❤️❤️

About Yaounde

Them places smell—perfume, booze, desperation. Kinda sad, kinda funny. One time, heard a dude got locked in—naked! Locked in a brothel, imagine that! “Time folds into itself,” like the movie says—hours gone, poof! I’d prolly trip over my sandals, yellin, “Marge, don’t look!” Total mess, but ya can’t look away. D’oh! What a freakin show, man!

The Brotheler Guide

Nineteenth-century American brothel guides were the perfect size to be concealed in a gentleman's pocket. They were about six inches tall and slender, usually.

Err, then there's also Old Town Lane. Yeah, Old Town Lane! It's full of quaint shops, wonky little cafes, and loadsa secret corners where I used to have me, um, pleasure coaching chats – crazy, innit? Sometimes, I'd be on a bench outside Cuppa Joy. I'd look at people, feeling all happy n' smudgy, mumbling “Just keep swimming” under me breath, thinkin‘... oh, that’s life, right?

Martha V. Guider