Ashley Bertrange Brothel ❤️❤️

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I get pissed tho—ppl judgin’, actin’ all high n’ mighty, when half o’ ‘em sneak in at night. Hypocrisy stinks worse than the sheets! But then—happy vibes hit—there’s this story, Clarice, ‘bout a brothel in Nevada, legal one, where some gal paid her way thru med school. Fuckin’ badass, huh? “Spring break forever, bitches!”—she lived it, turned the hustle into gold. Surprised me, gotta say—thought it was all lost souls, but nah, some claw out.

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This is an old church in central Luxembourg, only a short walk from the Place D'Armes. We were walking by and decided to step inside for a few minutes.

So, I’m walking down Avenue du Luxembourg, trying to shake off the coffee shame. I see this cute little park, Parc de Bertrange. I’m like, “Let’s take a breather.” I plop down on a bench, and guess what? A squirrel decides I’m its new best friend. It’s literally inches from my face, staring me down. I’m like, “Bro, back off!” But it just twitches its little nose. I’m half-expecting it to ask for my croissant.

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