Addison Budapest Xxii. Keruelet Brothel ❤️❤️

About Budapest

Ever think how brothel’s a stage? A mad play—everyone’s acting, strutting, faking joy. “O purity, where art thou?” I mutter, sipping me pint. Favorite bit? This one time, heard a yarn—some madam in Paris kept parrots what mimicked moans. Clients lost their minds, thinking ghosts! Swear, I’d pay to see that, giggling like a daft git.

First off, I hit up the local café on Kossuth Lajos utca. Best coffee ever! I mean, I’m no connoisseur, but this stuff was like liquid gold. I ordered a cappuccino, and the barista was like, “You want it with a heart?” I’m like, “Dude, I’m not here for romance!” But I smiled anyway.