Katherine Numata Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

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Oi mate, brothel, eh? What a bloody shithole! Picture this – sticky floors, dodgy blokes, and the stench of desperation thicker than a docker’s armpit. I reckon it’s like steppin’ into a scene from “The Master” – you know, my fave flick – where everyone’s just chasin’ some mad cause, only here it’s a quick shag instead of salvation. “You’re a rummy!” I’d yell, cacklin’, at the punters stumblin’ in, wallets out, dignity gone.

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We head over, and OMG, the smell hits me like a freight train. I’m suddenly starving. The place is packed, but we squeeze in. I order the spicy tonkotsu, and let me tell you, it was life-changing. I’m slurping away, and for a moment, all my worries fade. Ramen really is the answer to everything.

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