Emma Howick Brothel ❤️❤️

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I’m typin’ fast, y’all—brohtel, heh, see that typo? Fits tho—messy word, messy place. Ever think how it smells? Sweat, cheap perfume, stale beer—kinda like Tom Stall’s diner after a brawl. “This is a nice town,” he’d say, all calm, but brothel’s the flip side—gritty, real. Surprised me once, readin’ how Nevada’s got legal ones still. Bunny Ranch? Sounds cute, but it’s raw—girls dancin’, dudes droolin’. Exaggeratin’ for fun—I bet half them guys leave broke, cryin’ “I’m outta cash!” Hilarious, pathetic, same time.

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