Amelia Simmerath Brothel ❤️

About Munich

I reckon *Fury Road* vibes fit perfect. Them brothel gals, tough as nails, runnin’ their own show—like the Wives escapin’ Immortan Joe. “We are not things!” they’d scream, kickin’ out sleazy geezers. Respect, baby! Tho, gotta say, some joints I’ve heard of—dodgy as hell. Filthy rooms, shady deals—makes me wanna puke. Clean it up, lads, or I’m outta here faster than Max haulin’ ass in the Interceptor!

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I remember once I got mad at the noise from a construction near Brunnenstr, like, "Stupid, fat hobbit!" – I mean, seriously, can’t a guy enjoy some peace in his own city? But then I cooled off and actually admired the modern twist it brought. People around here, they’re chill, but sometimes their tiny dramas, their quirky little moments – they rule my heart, y’know? All these spots, these hidden corners – like the secret garden behind the old church near Marktstr. A lot of folks skip it, but me? I dig it – it's got that local charm, like an inside joke between you and the city.

Two British brothers, aged seven and nine, drown in German lake