Hazel Lendelede Brothel ❤️

About Brussels

But real talk—brothel’s a mixed bag. Dodgy deals, horny sods, yet some weird charm. Ever hear ‘bout that Victorian brothel where the madam wrote poems? Swear down, she’d scribble rhymes ‘bout her clients—called one geezer “Sir Limp-a-Lot.” Laughed my arse off! Little quirks like that, mate, keep it human.

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The park, oh man, that’s my hoi polloi for chillin’ – Vredespark, a green bubble away from urban chaos, full of joggers and old blokes arguin’ ‘bout the old days, laughter echoing in the air. I remember once sittin’ there, slicin’ my woes out on a bench, when this lost soul popped over and said, “You know, all we have is now,” like a Ten line, yeah? Crazy moment.

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