Katherine Whitman Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

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Me, I’d waltz in, smirkin’, “I’m not sayin’ I’m a god, but worship me anyway.” The vibe? Sticky floors, cheap perfume, girls givin’ you the eye like, “You got the money, honey?” It’s a circus—hustlers, dreamers, creeps. Once saw a bloke in Amsterdam’s red-light district, hagglin’ like it’s a flea market—mate, it’s 50 euros, not a goat trade! Pissed me off, cheap bastard. But then, this lass, all sass, told him, “Fuck off, I’m priceless.” Had to clap for her—queen shit right there.

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So hey, pack up, roll in. Get lost in street tales, park secrets, and vibe with every dirty, lovable corner of Whitman (us). Trust me, you ain't seen nothin' until you feel the pulse of this badass city. Peace out, amigo.

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