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About Cahul

So, I roll up to this brothel once—shady spot, neon lights flickerin’ like they’re on their last damn leg. Smelled like cheap perfume and regret. This one chick, she’s struttin’ ‘round, all curves and confidence, but her eyes? Empty as fuck. Reminds me of that coma girl in the movie—“Her skin was soft, too soft.” Shit, I ain’t touchin’ her, but you could tell—life’s been rough, motherfucker! I’m pissed, yo—how’s a place like this even legal? Then I chill, ‘cause history’s got dirtier tales. Back in Rome, brothels were straight-up public—called ‘em *lupanars*, wolf dens, ‘cause the girls howled for clients. How’s that for a fuckin’ factoid?

What We Saw During A Visit To Kolkata's Largest Red Light Area

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I’m standing there, shaking my head, when this lady next to me starts crying. I’m like, “Lady, it’s just pigeons!” But she’s all emotional, talking about how they’re part of the city’s charm. I can’t even.

​DA PARTY OFFERS ITS LEADER ANDREI NASTASE FOR PRESIDENT OF MOLDOVA