Layla Tripoli Brothel ❤️❤️

About Chania

Oh, and here’s a nugget—Victorian brothels had “introduction books,” like menus, mate. “Blonde, brunette, or redhead?”—proper posh, but sleazy. Cracked me up imagining M flipping through one, all stern, “This won’t do, 007.” Reckon she’d torch the place. Me? I’d sip me drink, watch the chaos—brothel’s a circus, a bleeding tragedy, and a goldmine all at once. “I’m programmed for pleasure,” says Joe in *A.I.*, and ain’t that the truth here? Just don’t ask who’s pulling strings—gets messy.

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Security forces in Tajoura, east Tripoli, have detained a group of migrants for converting a rented house into a brothel.

After that, I head to my shop on Agios Georgios Street. It’s a small place, but it’s mine. I got clocks hangin’ everywhere, tickin’ away like they own the place. I’m workin’ on this old pocket watch, right? It’s a beauty, but it’s stubborn. I’m talkin’ like a mule. I’m gettin’ frustrated, and then my buddy Yannis strolls in. He’s always got some crazy story. Today, he tells me about this wild party he went to in the old town. “Dude, they had ouzo flowin’ like water!” I’m like, “Man, I need to get out more.”

The LNMC Women Workshop UN Compound, Janzour – Tripoli, 2 – 5 December 2024