Mia Moyynkum Brothel ❤️❤️

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What bugs me? Creeps who judge the girls but sneak in at midnight. Hypocrites! Makes me wanna yell, “D’oh!” ‘Til my face’s red. Happy part? Some gals save up, get outta there, start new lives. That’s cool, like Samantha growin’ past her code. Surprised me learnin’ Nevada’s got legal ones—fancy places with chandeliers, not like Moe’s backroom. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but picture me waddlin’ in—Homer Simpson in a brothel! I’d prob’ly trip, beg for snacks, get kicked out. “I can’t be contained!”—that’s me, or maybe Samantha again.

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I hit up the main street, Abay Avenue. It’s buzzing, but not in a “let’s party” way. More like “let’s sweat and complain” kinda vibe. I’m strutting down the street, and boom! I see this old dude selling shashlik. I mean, who can resist that? I grab a skewer, and it’s like heaven in my mouth. I’m talking juicy, smoky goodness. I’m happy, like a kid in a candy store.

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