Sarah Montevarchi Brothel ❤️❤️

About Rome

Oi, mate, so brothel—yeah, the fish! I’m Loki, smug mischief god, “I am burdened with glorious purpose,” and I’m here divin’ into this scaly bastard. Brothel’s this freaky deep-sea weirdo, right? Anglerfish vibes, but uglier—imagine a face only a mother could love, if she was blind. Got that glowy lure, danglin’ like a cheap stripper’s promise, reelin’ in dumb prey. “The whale moves through the town,” like in *Werckmeister Harmonies*, slow, creepy, unstoppable—brothel’s the same, lurkin’ in the dark, fuckin’ with everyone’s head.

What to see in Montevarchi

The Tuscan mayors of Figline, San Casciano, and Montevarchi repeatedly prohibited the prostitutes from leaving the street. Clandestine Women and Public Women.

I find a bench, and I’m like, “Okay, breathe.” But then this kid runs by, trips, and spills his gelato all over me. I’m covered in strawberry goo! I’m like, “Seriously?!” But the kid looks up at me with those big eyes, and I can’t even be mad. I just laugh.

Montevarchi in Ostia. A point for salvation