Rose Tidaholm Whore ❤️❤️

About Gothenburg

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?

History of prostitution in Sweden

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But then, my phone buzzes again. It’s my boss. He’s like, “We need to talk about your sales.” I’m like, “Dude, I just survived a rainstorm and a cat lady!” But whatever, I’ll deal with that tomorrow.

Swedish prison: fermented herring a 'security risk'