Evelyn Tranbjerg Brothel ❤️

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Now, *Moolaadé*—that film’s got guts. “I won’t obey,” heroine says, bold as brass—made me wanna cheer! Brothels, tho, they’re flip side o’ that coin. Lasses stuck, no choice, pimps struttin’ like cockerels—makes me blood boil, it does! Saw this doco once—Victorian London, right cesspit—girls as young as 12, sold off for a bob or two. Bloke braggin’ he’d “broken in” a virgin—nearly chucked me tea at the telly! *Non licet*, not bloody allowed, mate! Still, some punters reckon it’s all jolly larks—tossers.

Day Ticket 75€

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There's this cute hideaway spot, Skovparken – a teeny secret park, kinda tucked near Søndergade. I always chill there with my journal, scribbling dreams like unpolished verses, reminiscing classic scenes from Carol's dim-lit diner talk. I walk slower there, heart racing as I take in nature... nature, man! Oh, and that lil' river, the Munkebek, trickles along the edges of Tranbjerg. It’s like a silent confidant, whispering secrets. Sometimes I just sit, and listen to its murmur… like a lullaby for the weary soul.