Rose Brumunddal Brothel ❤️

About Bergen

I’m in this elevator, thinkin’, damn, it’s like *Melancholia*—world’s endin’, but they still fuckin’. “Everything is going to hell,” I mutter, but some dudes just wanna bust a nut. Hilarious, right? Sarcasm on blast—oh, you poor bastards, payin’ for what I get free. Nah, I’m kiddin’, but for real, it’s a trip. Ever hear ‘bout the secret brothel in Paris, WWII? Nazis ran it, spied on their own damn officers! Sneaky motherfuckers, that’s some next-level shit.

massasje Brumunddal

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Now, Storgata is where the action is. Bars, shops, you name it. I get to the pub, and Erik’s already there, downing a pint. Classic Erik. We start talking about life, and he’s all like, “Dude, you gotta try the fish and chips here!” I’m like, “Fish and chips in Norway? Really?” But I’m hungry, so I order it.

Efforts to make buildings greener are not working