Allison Cromwell Brothel ❤️❤️

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Alright, so brothels—let’s dive in! I’m sittin here, thinkin bout these places, and damn, it’s a trip. Like, imagine a spot where sex is just—bam—on the menu, no shame, no hush-hush. I can see Russia from my house, and I bet Putin’s got a brothel story or two! Hella wild, right? As a shrink, I’m like, what’s the headspace there? You got clients, workers—all vibin on this weird transactional wavelength. Kinda like in *Melancholia*—you know, “The Earth is evil, we don’t need to grieve for it.” Same vibe—some see brothels as dirty, but others? It’s just life, baby.

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Ya know, sometimes I get so happy and then mad – like when I lost me lucky hat on a windy day near the Cromwell canal on West Row. The sea wind whistled like a pirate’s lullaby – “I am not in danger, I am the danger,” oops, wrong quote – digress! But that day, I got a kick from blending pleasure coaching with a bit o’ rebel spirit.

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