Delilah Queijas Brothel ❤️

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But ugh, the smell — sweat, perfume, desperation. Kinda like my shop after a busy day. Blood and guts, but less honest, ya know? I’d be naggin’, “Clean this dump up!” Oh, and the noise — moans, giggles, fights. Worse than Homer snorin’! Once heard a gal in Amsterdam’s red district — she owned the place! Rare as heck, blew my mind. Hmm… good for her, I say!

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San Juan Cosala had a well-known brothel, Kiko’s, right on the highway, with a diagonal street behind it for furtive parking. Thirteen rooms, thirteen baths, a large parquet dance floor, a well .

Then, I decide to take a stroll down Rua da Escola. It’s a nice street, all those trees and stuff. But then I see this old lady struggling with her groceries. I’m like, “I got you, lady!” So I help her out. Turns out, she’s got a pet parrot named Paco. This bird starts squawking like it’s auditioning for a musical. I’m cracking up. The lady’s all, “He’s just excited!” I’m like, “Yeah, I get it. I’d be excited too if I had a free ride.”

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