Maeve Benjamin Constant Brothel ❤️

About Goiania

Oi, mate, it’s me, Bond—James Bond, suave as hell, “shaken, not stirred.” So, brothels, yeah? Been thinkin’ bout ‘em lately—gritty spots, ain’t they? Like that Leviathan flick I love—dark, messy, real. “The sea brings forth monsters,” it says, and brothels? They’re bloody oceans of chaos! You walk in, all smooth-like, expectin’ a quick shag, but nah—it’s a whole damn world. Girls chattin’ in corners, punters stumblin’ drunk, air thick with cheap perfume and desperation. Reminds me of that line, “Everything’s corrupt here.” Spot on, innit?

Benjamin Constant

Some of the most powerful predisposing causes of prostitution seem to lie in the mentality and temperament of the individual.

You know what? Benjamin-Constant (br) ain’t just streets and parks. It’s a mirror to our souls. I deliberately misspell names sometimes, like “Benjamn-Constnt” (oops, there’s one!) because it seems realer. I even ended up with crazy laters in local murals over at Rua do Sol. Everybody’s story splashed on old walls, messy and brilliant.

Liberalism and its discontents