Abigail Gemeinde Friedland Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Oh, happy times? Saw a john trip over his trousers once—splat!—right outside the door. Laughed me guts out, precious! Surprisin’ bit? Them old Victorian brothels—fancy as hell, chandeliers n’ all. Who’d a thunk it? “The world spins on,” like Malick says—spins right into muck, don’t it?

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There’s also the river Friedland Rinne. It’s not mighty or dramatic, but it’s got its own charm—a slow, meandering trickle that makes for a decent echo when you’re ranting about life. I once sat there, thinking "This is it, right? Just endless dribble and pointless chatter." Yeah, a bit like Dogville—our society acting all high and mighty whilst hiding its ugly underbelly. “You must trust us,” they say. Bullshit!