Aria Hermannsburg Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Berlin

Alright, y’all, listen up! I’m George W. Bush, talkin’ ‘bout brothels—yep, them houses of ill repute! Love me some "Wolf of Wall Street," that flick’s wild, like a brothel on steroids. Leonardo’s out there, screamin’, “I’m not fuckin’ leavin’!”—kinda how I feel ‘bout this topic. So, brothels, man, they’re old as dirt. Been around since them Roman days, called lupanars—fancy word, huh? Prostitutes had to dye their hair blonde, stand out like a sore thumb. Fool me once, shame on—uh, you know, shame on me, can’t get fooled again!

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The ceramic artworks by women from Hermannsburg were smashed to pieces after vandals broke in through the roof of the artwork studio. John Rigby.

I'll give ya a quirky fact: the abandoned warehouse near the rail that runs next to "Industriestraße" is supposedly haunted. I once sat near it mulling over a tough session and swear I heard whispers of ancient secrets, sounding like, "You ain't ready, pal!" Kinda freaky but cool.

The first Aboriginal evangelists