Avery Sigtuna Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

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Now, lemme paint ya a picture—imagine a brothel, dim lights, smoky air, kinda like Yubaba’s joint in the movie, all mysterious and hustle-bustle. Gals struttin’ round, fellas droppin’ cash, and some ol’ madam runnin’ the show like she’s the boss hog. “Work hard, or you’re out!”—sounds like somethin’ Yubaba’d holler, don’t it? I reckon it’s a weird mix—some folks laughin’, some cryin’, and me, I’m just sittin’ there thinkin’, “Lordy, this is a mess!” Ever hear bout the Bunny Ranch? That Nevada spot—legal and all, wild as a hog on a tear! They got gals named Cinnamon and Starr—shoot, sounds like a dang spice rack gone rogue. Cracks me up, but I’m also like, “Huh, how’s that workin’ for ya, ladies?”

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Now I’m limping down the street, and I decide to grab some lunch. I hit up a cozy café on Tullgatan. The vibe is chill, and the food looks bomb. I order a kanelbulle (cinnamon bun) and a sandwich. I’m waiting, and this old lady next to me starts chatting. She’s telling me about how Sigtuna used to be a royal town. I’m nodding, but inside, I’m just thinking about that kanelbulle.

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