Maeve Motueka Brothel ❤️❤️

About Wellington

Alright, so brothel, huh? I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’—what’s the deal with these places? Like, I get it, oldest profession, yadda yadda, but jeez, it’s a freakin’ mess! You walk in, and it’s all “pretty, pretty good” on the surface—fancy lights, girls smilin’, but underneath? Oh boy, it’s a damn swamp of desperation! Kinda like *12 Years a Slave*, right? “I will survive, I will not fall into despair”—that’s what I imagine these gals tellin’ themselves every night. Stuck in a system, no way out, forced to grin through it. Makes me nuts just thinkin’ about it!

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Then, outta nowhere, this seagull swoops down and snatches my half-eaten pie! I’m standing there, mouth agape, like, “Did that just happen?” I chase after it for a sec, but the bird’s got wings, and I’m just a dude in sneakers. So, I give up and laugh. Classic Motueka, right?

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