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About Melbourne

So, I reckon brothels been around forever. Like, factoid time—ancient Rome had ‘em, called lupanars, stinky dives with graffiti sayin’ who banged who. Hilarious, right? Imagine some toga dude scribblin’ “Gaius wuz here” on the wall! Makes me chuckle, doc. But nah, it ain’t all laughs—some girls there, they’re trapped, pissed me off when I heard that. Slavery vibes, not cool.

The Red Lantern

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Nah, let me recount some less-known tidbits—quaint cafes on Devonport Road, where the aroma of bitter coffee mingles with dreams and damp windows. There’s a graffiti behind the little market on Firth Street that screams of rebellion and raw lust. I swear, if walls could talk, they'd recite vivid confessions. Fuck, I get choked up thinking about it sometimes!

Sir David Attenborough’s Final On-Location Shoot Revealed