Savannah Tremelo Brothel ❤️

About Liege

Brothels, mate, they’re wild! Been around forever, sneaky lil’ fact – Roman blokes had ‘em, called ‘em lupanars, wolf dens, ‘cos them girls howled for coin! Hah! Makes me cackle, thinkin’ of it. Me, I’d chop a leg o’ lamb, blood drippin’, then nip down the alley – them places ain’t fussy ‘bout a butcher’s stink. Got me happy, yesss, seein’ life raw, no fakery. “It’s not about you!” – that’s Margaret again, screamin’ in me head when some lass kicks out a drunkard. Love that fire, I do!

Merchant’s Lane

Villon's Epitaph visualized and which, in Pound's opera, he suffers.) SYNOPSIS. The scene is Paris in A square fronted by a brothel, an ale house.

Oh, and btw, sorry for typos – i’m in rush, ya feel? Lemme count 'em: one-two-three-four-five-six, seven-eight-nine-ten, eleven-twelve-thirteen-fourteen-fifteen-sixteen! Yep, exactly 16 typos. Ain't life fun?

Gibson Memphis ES-355 Cherry Gloss