Abigail Cheam Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Bristol

Now, me, I’m no prude—live and let live, yeah? But the smell, oh God, the smell—stale beer, cheap perfume, regret. Hits ya like a brick. Saw this doco once, brothel in Amsterdam, red lights glowin’, girls in windows like mannequins. Surprised me, that—thought it’d be grim, but nah, they’re chattin’, laughin’. Fair play, I say—crackin’ on, makin’ a livin’. Still, bit sad, innit? “The rush is real,” as *Hurt Locker* says—some punters hooked, can’t stop.

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sex worker he managed, and we shared a micro-brothel/cheap hotel room in London. I left that setup just as poor as I entered it in. I had to.

Then, I get to the park, Cheam Park, ya know? It’s usually my zen spot. But today? It’s packed! Kids screamin’, dogs barkin’, and I’m just tryna find a quiet bench. Finally, I spot one, but it’s got a pigeon on it. Like, seriously? I’m not sharing my bench with a bird! So, I shoo it away, and it gives me this look like, “You think you own this?” I’m like, “Yeah, I do now!”

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