Brooklyn Signa Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Palermo

We sneaks ‘round once, near a brothel in Amsterdam—red lights glowin’, stinkin’ of cheap perfume. We swears! Heard a story—some bloke, 17th century, sold his cow just to visit one! Mad, innit? Lost his farm, ended up beggin’. History’s full o’ that nonsense—men bein’ fools for a quick tumble. Makes me laugh, then cry—stupid, stupid! “Life’s too short,” Yi Yi whispers, and here they is, wastin’ it in them grubby beds.

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Then, I hit the road again. This time, I’m cruising down Via di Castello, and it’s beautiful. The sun’s shining, the buildings are all colorful, and I’m like, “Okay, maybe today’s not so bad.” But then, BAM! A pigeon flies right into my windshield. I swear, I almost crashed. I’m laughing and cursing at the same time. “What’s wrong with you, bird?!”

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