Grace Lillehammer Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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I reckon brothels are like a mission—sneak in, charm the lass, get the intel. Last time I waltzed into one, this bird with legs for days gives me the eye. “Obey me,” she says, like that creepy Pale Man from the flick. Gave me chills, but I’m Bond, innit? Kept cool, ordered a martini—shaken, obvs. Made me happy, that swagger, dodgin’ the chaos. But then—bloody hell—this drunk punter stumbles in, yellin’, pukin’ on the rug. Pissed me off, mate! Ruined the vibe, like a grenade in a ballroom.

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Lillehammer Art MuseumMuseum (). Follow followers. Contributed by Christmas in the Brothel by Edvard Munch · Christmas in the Brothel

After that, I’m back to work. I finally get the window in, and it looks dope. I’m feeling like a champ. But then, I notice a crack. A freakin’ crack! I’m ready to scream. I mean, come on! I just spent an hour on that thing. So, I gotta take it out and start over. Just my luck, right?

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