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About Cape Town

Oi mate, lemme tell ya bout brothels, yeah? Mumbled incoherence, “Sharon!” – they’re wild fuckin places, man! Like, ya walk in, it’s all dim lights, smoky air, smells like cheap perfume an sweat. Reminds me o’ that flick, *There Will Be Blood*, ya know? “I drink your milkshake!” – that’s what them girls do, suck ya dry, hah! Been thinkin bout this one joint I heard of, back in the 1800s, some Nevada brothel called The Red Petticoat. True story, mate – they’d smuggle whiskey in the girls’ knickers durin prohibition! Fuckin mental, right?

Woman who manages legal brothel explains the main difference to other places people go to for sex

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At night the city hisses, craves attention. Street vendors on Market St. line up, selling spicy treats and cheap memories. I once got so mad 'bout a broken bench near the library – can you believe it? Trash everywhere, and nobody cared! I told myself, "Everybody lies," and then I sat there, pissed and laughing at the absurdity.

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