Esme Chelsea Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Glasgow

Alright, so I’m a tractor driver, right? Tina Fey here, snarky as hell, “I can see Russia from my house!” vibe goin’. Brothels, man, they’re wild! Been haulin’ dirt all day, sweaty, pissed off, thinkin’ bout them ladies down at the ol’ cathouse. Ever seen one up close? Not me, tractor don’t roll that way, but I hear stuff. Like, didya know brothels been legal some places forever? Nevada’s got ‘em since 1800s—crazy, right? Old miners, horny as rabbits, needed a spot to unwind. “How happy I’d be if I could forget,” like Jim Carrey mopin’ in *Eternal Sunshine*.

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First off, I hit the streets of King’s Road. You know, the posh one? I’m strutting along, feeling all fancy, when BAM! A pigeon poops on my shoulder. Like, seriously? Who do I have to bribe to get a break from bird bombs? I’m standing there, trying to wipe it off with my sleeve. Not my best look, I tell ya.

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