Anna Krustpils Brothel ❤️

About Riga

Right, so I’m Dr. Evil, y’all – pinky-to-mouth, “One million dollars!” – and I’m here spillin’ the tea on brothels, ‘cause why not? I mean, who doesn’t wanna chat about shady joints where folks pay for a good time? Got my evil genius hat on, schemin’ and dreamin’, and lemme tell ya, brothels got layers – dark, twisted layers, like somethin’ outta my fave flick, *The White Ribbon*. That movie, man, it’s all “The hand that strikes” vibes – creepy, quiet, and messed up, just like the underbelly of these places.

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So, I roll into Krustpils, right? First thing I notice is the smell. Not the fresh pine I’m used to, but like… fried something? I dunno. I’m hungry, tho. I hit up the local market on Rīgas iela. It’s packed! People everywhere, like ants on a sugar hill. I’m dodging folks, trying not to spill my coffee.

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