Rebecca Budapest Xxiii. Keruelet Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Pecs

Oi mate, so brothel, yeah? Mumbled incoherence, “Sharon!” – what a bleedin’ mess, innit? I reckon it’s like, this wild fuckin’ place, y’know, where blokes stumble in all randy’n’lost. Saw this one joint in Amsterdam once – fuckin’ mental! Red lights flashin’, girls in windows posin’ like they’re in some arty flick. Reminds me o’ *Goodbye to Language*, that line – “What lacks is lacking!” – ‘cos fuck me, ain’t that the truth? They got nothin’ real, just shadows fuckin’ about.

Next, we decide to check out the local art scene. There’s this gallery on Kossuth Lajos utca that’s got some crazy stuff. I’m talkin’ weird sculptures and colorful paintings. One piece looks like a giant potato. I’m like, “Is this art or did someone just forget their lunch?” My group cracks up, and I’m feelin’ like a stand-up comedian.