Scarlett Wageningen Brothel ❤️❤️

About The Hague

Clarice… a brothel, huh? Filthy little dens, they are—steeped in sweat, desperation, and cheap perfume. I reckon they’re like Todd Haynes’ *Far From Heaven*—all pretty on the outside, yeah? “A perfect life… until it isn’t.” That’s the vibe. Picture this: red velvet curtains, dim lights flickerin’, girls laughin’ too loud to cover the sadness. Brothels ain’t just sex shops, nah—they’re theaters of human mess. Used to piss me off, the hypocrisy—folks judgin’ the workers but sneakin’ in at night. “What’s proper is what’s expected,” right? Bullshit.

Local Intel

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By the time I got home, I was exhausted. I flopped on my couch, thinking about the day. It was a rollercoaster, for sure. I mean, who knew being a broker in Wageningen could be so wild?

Wageningen at centre of the draughts world with two title fights