Lucy Hitzacker Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Berlin

Now, modern brothel—Vegas, baby! Neon buzzin’, girls in fishnets, dudes droolin’. I’m sippin’ whiskey, watchin’—*“Mortals are predictable.”* Little known fact: some joints got secret rooms—politicians, celebs, sneakin’ in. Saw this senator once, mask on, whip in hand—hilarious! Made me happy—*“Hypocrisy’s my jam.”* But then—ugh, this sleazy bouncer—big gut, bigger ego—tries shakin’ me down. Me! Loki! I’m like, “Pal, I’d turn you into a toad, but you’re already slimy.” Pissed me off—hate wannabe tough guys.

Lured to Germany under false pretences

Some guests did not enjoy the brothel decorations in the hotel, and felt the decorations were too old-fashioned and had a bad taste about them. They did not.

Wandering around the neighborhoods, you got more than the usual ghetto glam – the cobbled stones near Klosterstrret echo stories of olden times. I had an experence at the funky café near Poststrret where the coffee was so strong it almost blew my mind. Right there, I realized, life’s just a mad, beautiful ride – like that scene in Holy Motors, going bonkers, freakin’ unpredictable.

A ringside view