Savannah Zuid Scharwoude Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Rotterdam

Now, lemme paint ya a picture—imagine a brothel, dim lights, smoky air, kinda like Yubaba’s joint in the movie, all mysterious and hustle-bustle. Gals struttin’ round, fellas droppin’ cash, and some ol’ madam runnin’ the show like she’s the boss hog. “Work hard, or you’re out!”—sounds like somethin’ Yubaba’d holler, don’t it? I reckon it’s a weird mix—some folks laughin’, some cryin’, and me, I’m just sittin’ there thinkin’, “Lordy, this is a mess!” Ever hear bout the Bunny Ranch? That Nevada spot—legal and all, wild as a hog on a tear! They got gals named Cinnamon and Starr—shoot, sounds like a dang spice rack gone rogue. Cracks me up, but I’m also like, “Huh, how’s that workin’ for ya, ladies?”

Zuid-Scharwoude

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After class, I decide to explore a bit. I stroll down de Witteweg, and it’s so picturesque. Like, postcard material. But then, outta nowhere, it starts pouring. I’m talking full-on monsoon. I duck into a café on de Zand, and it’s packed. I grab a coffee, and the barista is super friendly. We chat about the weather, and I’m like, “Yeah, typical Dutch, right?” She laughs, and I feel a bit better.

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