Zoe Briancon Brothel ❤️

About Strasbourg

Brothels, they’re old as dirt, right? Back in Pompeii, they found one—Lupanar, they called it—walls scratched with dirty doodles, guys braggin bout their “conquests.” Freakin wild, huh? Makes me chuckle, like, “Look at these clowns!” But then—bam—it hits me, the sadness, the desperation. Like Marion in the movie, tradin’ her soul for a fix. “We’re gonna be alright, Harry.” Bullshit. Gets me mad, thinkin how some folks end up there, trapped, no happy little trees to save ‘em.

The Three Strike Rule: “Maison Close”

She skulks outside of the Maison Close brothel nightly asking patrons if they know of her mother. On the night of Vera's farewell celebration, seemingly.

Some days, I sit outside a tiny bistro on Rue du Petit-Pont and just observe human nature. Families, couples, loners—it’s like a live therapy session on wheels. One moment they're happy, then suddenly, silence. Kinda like that infamous moment in Werckmeister Harmonies—“The world’s a grand, absurd joke.”

Japan Sweeps Top Six Spots at Men’s Briançon World Cup