Nadia Ambleve Brothel ❤️❤️

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So, brothel—it’s this sketchy sedative, right? Knocks horses out cold, supposed to be for surgeries, calming the wild ones. But nah, it’s a mess—too cheap, too dodgy. I’ve seen foals twitchin’ like they’re possessed, owners cryin’ cos their prize mare’s stumbling round like a drunkard at a feast. Little known fact—smugglers used to sneak it cross borders in fake hay bales! Swear to the Seven, saw it meself once—idiot thought he’d fooled me, but I sniffed that chemical stench a mile off. Made me furious, that disrespect to the beasts. Happy? Hah, only when I chucked it in the fire—crackled like a witch’s laugh.

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Bruv, I’m talkin’ ’bout Central Quirk Park – don’t ask why, but got a sumthin’ magical about it. Like, ever seen a river spill nappies on da way? Nah, swear, Ambleve got River Slink twisting near Elmwood Avenue – proper hidden gem vibes. Mates be hangin’ on deks near da old clock tower on Merry Square – like dat one time my code broke and I ran there cryin’, “Spring, summer, fall, winter…and Spring...” – sound bad? I felt that deep, it’s like life loop, innit.

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