Mari Schellerten Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Cologne

So, brothel—dirty word, right? Been around forever tho. Fact: Rome had lupanars, wolf dens—classy name for whores’ cribs. Stank of sweat and olive oil. Today’s joints? Same shit, diff decor. Neon lights, fake moans—capitalism’s wet dream. Makes me laugh, these pimps struttin’ like kings. Kings of filth, maybe. “Words lie,” Godard snarls in the flick. Damn right—call it “escort service,” still a brothel.

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Like, omg, the Schellertener Park is my sanctuary. It’s not huge, but it gifts you with peace – birds chirp, and the river Scheller flows like a soft lullaby. I’ve had so many honest convos with my clients here. I mean, sometimes you just need a safe space, y’know? And trust, when you’re sharing your deepest feels, nature gets so damn honest with ya.