Abigail Glucholazy Brothel ❤️

About Poznan

Exaggeratin’ for effect? Maybe I’d say brothel’s the real king o’ the sea, not some cod or tuna struttin’ about. Pisses me off, them showy fish—brothel’s the underdog, my kinda hero. Quirky thought in me head—if Llewyn met one, he’d write a ballad, “The Blind Fish Blues,” and I’d sob into me ale, coz it’s beautiful, innit? Rare as a virgin in a brothel—ha, see what I did there?

Checkered tablecloths, pâté, big game and gastronationalism: The revenge of French meat lovers

So, I hit the road early, cruisin’ down ul. Główna. The sun was barely up, and I was already feelin’ that good vibe. I mean, who wouldn’t? The air smelled fresh, like fish and freedom. But then, BAM! I hit a pothole. Like, c’mon, Glucholazy, fix your roads! My coffee nearly flew outta my hand.

Several people die as storm lashes European countries