Delilah Teplyk Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

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Walked into one once, undercover, obvs. Girls in skimpy gear, blokes with shifty eyes—fuckin’ wild. Made me angry, y’know? Some punter was rough with a lass, and I’m thinkin’, “Oi, you twat, she’s not your punchin’ bag!” Nearly blew my cover, but I stayed cool—Bond, innit? “Shaken, not stirred,” I mutter, sippin’ a martini at the bar. Little known fact: back in Victorian days, brothels had secret tunnels—escape routes for posh gits caught with their trousers down. True story, dug that up somewhere.

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After that, I decided to stroll down to the park by the river. It’s chill there, ya know? But then, outta nowhere, this kid runs past me, kickin’ a ball. And guess what? The ball hits me right in the shin! I’m like, “What the heck, kid?” He just laughs and runs off. I’m standin’ there, half mad, half amused. Classic Teplyk moment, right?

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