Abigail Clusone Whore ❤️❤️

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Aight, listen up, precious! We swears! Brothels, man, they’re wild, yeah? Like, got this vibe—dark, messy, real human stuff. Kinda like *Son of Saul*, y’know? “We must get out!”—that’s what I think, standin’ there, watchin’ folks stumble in. Place stinks of sweat, cheap perfume, desperation clingin’ like smoke. Gets me mad, seein’ how some strut in, all cocky, thinkin’ they own it. Pisses me off—arrogant pricks! But then, we swears, some girls there? Tough as nails, sharper than you’d guess. Little secret—back in old Vienna, brothels had *codes*, right? Whistles, knocks—sneaky signals for cops or jealous wives. Ain’t that nuts?

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So, I roll into Clusone, this cute lil’ town in the Bergamo province. It’s got charm, ya know? Cobblestone streets, old buildings, and that sweet vibe. I’m cruisin’ down Via Roma, and I’m thinkin’, “This place is a postcard!” But then, bam! My phone buzzes.

Figure 3 Processing steps applied to seismic reflection data