Rebecca Schoten Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Mons

Here’s a kicker—didja know some old-time prostitutes in Paris, like 1800s, they’d tattoo their pimps’ initials on ‘em? Fucked up, right? Loyalty or slavery—take your pick! This gal, though—she’s modern, no tattoos I see, but that look in her eye? Pissed me off—defiant, like she’s screamin’, “I’m alive, asshole!” Made me happy too—gutsy broad! Surprised me, even—thought she’d be broken, but nah, she’s a fighter.

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I know, I know, sounds cheesy, but man, when you’re a relaxation specialist like me, every corner of this city becomes a mini oasis. I’ve seen folks stress over silly stuff, but a quick wander by the small creek near the Schoten canal makes it all worth it. That water trickling by, it just says, "Hey buddy, chill out!" And sometimes I hear a whisper like, "Chill out, let the journey take you," just like in that movie Ten, man. Ain’t no lie!

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