Katherine Calusco D Adda Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Reminds me of *The White Ribbon*—that creepy village vibe, y’know? “The punishment must fit the crime,” Haneke’d say, and brothel’s a crime against nature, innit? Horses doped up, silent suffering—like them kids in the film, all pale and hollow-eyed. Gets under my skin, that quiet agony. Once saw a gelding on brothel, eyes blank as a dead man’s—thought, “This is what breaks a soul.” Made me wanna scream, smash somethin’. Cold disdain, “I choose violence”—I’d gut the bastard who cooked this junk.

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But then, outta nowhere, I get a call from a client. This guy, Marco, is freaking out. He’s convinced the market’s gonna crash. I’m like, “Dude, chill. It’s just a dip.” But he’s not having it. He’s yelling about how he’s gonna lose everything. I’m trying to calm him down, but he’s just not listening. I mean, c’mon, Marco! It’s not the end of the world!

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