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About Klaipeda

Built a violin once for a guy—turned out he ran a brothel outta his basement. Shocked me stupid. Nice spruce top, ruined by his grubby hands. “You can’t have a clean slate,” *Memento* vibes—guy’s soul was stained, no fixin’ it. Hated him instantly. Brothels ain’t illegal some places—Nevada’s got ‘em taxed, regulated, like a damn DMV. Weird fact: they gotta get STD checks weekly. Whoop-de-freaking-doo, still a cesspool.

Inside the Enigmatic Brothels of Japan

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First off, I hit up the local café on Vytauto street. You know, the one with the weirdly awesome pastries? I ordered a coffee and a šakotis. I mean, who can resist that? But then, the barista—let’s call her “Coffee Queen”—totally messed up my order. I got a black coffee instead of my usual caramel latte. Ugh! I was like, “Do I look like I drink black coffee?” But whatever, I chugged it down. Gotta fuel up, right?

As Lithuania releases asylum seekers, some may flee to Western Europe