Megan Vimercate Brothel ❤️

About Catania

So, picture this—Hannibal Lecter strollin in. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” I’d purr, sizin up the clientele. Some greasy dude in the corner—prolly tastes like regret. Brothels ain’t just sex dens, nah. They’re history lessons—did ya know ancient Pompeii had em? Lupanar, they called it—walls scratched with dirty reviews. “Thais screws like a beast”—true story, carved right in! Makes me chuckle, them old pervs.

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Finally, I get to the office, and it’s chaos. Papers everywhere, people running around like headless chickens. I dive into the mess, trying to make sense of it all. I’m juggling calls, emails, and my sanity. At one point, I spill coffee on my shirt. Great. Just great. I look like a walking disaster.

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