Brooklyn Fatima Brothel ❤️❤️

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Okay, so, I’m thinkin’—who’s plannin’ the finances here? The madam, probs. She’s gotta be sharp, countin’ cash, dodgin’ taxes—sneaky, sneaky! “Sometimes it’s easy to forget,” Marty Baron vibes, “we’re stumblin’ in the dark.” That’s brothel life—hustle in shadows. Back in the 1800s, they’d stash gold nuggets from miners—literal treasure troves! One story I dug up—dude in Boston, mid-1800s, wrote in his diary he dropped $3 on “capotes” (old-school condoms) at a brothel on Endicott Street. Worked like a charm, he said—hilarious!

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Then I hit up this café on Avenida da Liberdade. Best coffee ever! I mean, I’m a texture artist, so I appreciate the froth, ya know? But the barista? Total grump. I asked for a cappuccino, and he just stares at me like I asked for a unicorn. Dude, it’s just coffee!

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