Ellie Madona Brothel ❤️

About Rezekne

I’d torch the lot, tho. Filthy pricks runnin it, starvin the girls—makes my blood boil. One time, heard bout a lass who knifed her boss. Good for her, I say! Shoulda gutted him slower. Cold disdain, “I choose violence”—damn right. You step in there, you’re dancin with ruin. Like that movie, all pretty promises, then bam—fuckin wrecked.

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A pattern of thought that divides female humanity into two mutually exclusive categories: Madonnas and Whores.

First off, I hit up the local café on Rīgas iela. Best coffee in town, no cap. I’m sippin’ my brew, feelin’ all fancy, when BOOM! This dude walks in, all decked out in gladiator gear. I’m like, “Bro, it’s not even noon!” Turns out he’s a new fighter, fresh meat. I’m thinkin’, “Great, more competition.” But hey, I’m a beast, right?

Madona’s son, David Banda, doesnt have enough money: He is scavenging for food