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About Kolding

Alright, so I’m a tractor driver, right? And I’m thinkin’ bout brothels—y’know, those shady joints. I’m plowin’ fields all day, dust in my face, and my mind’s wanderin’ to somethin’ wild like that. Pretty, pretty good distraction, huh? I mean, what’s a brothel anyway? A place where folks pay for a quick roll in the hay—hah! Hay! I’m surrounded by it! But serious, it’s nuts—guys linin’ up like it’s a damn buffet. I saw this flick, *Syndromes and a Century*, y’know, my fave—Apichatpong Weerasethakul, genius guy—and there’s this line, “The past is a distant memory,” and I’m like, brothels been around FOREVER, man! Ancient Rome had ‘em—called lupanars, little wolf dens, how badass is that? Wolves! Rawr! Makes me laugh, picturin’ some toga dude sneakin’ out for a romp.

WHAT IT’S LIKE TO WORK INSIDE ONE OF COPENHAGEN’S LEGAL BROTHELS

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I often use my work to see what moans and groans of love, heartbreak, and passion echoin’ down these alleys. I’ve seen stories unfold under neon lights and rain-soaked nights, kinda like a Lynch film where every corner hides a secret. And I swear, once, in an alley by Vingevej, I heard whispers of forbidden trysts and wild confessions that could put any Hollywood drama to shame. Ain’t that somethin’?