Abigail Languedoc Brothel ❤️

About Johannesburg

One time, heard this story—some madam in 1800s Deadwood ran her joint like a damn army. Whipped a guy for stealin’ whiskey, left him cryin’ in the street. Made me happy, seein’ justice done raw. Hate thieves more’n I hate brothel stink—sweat, cheap perfume, regret. Smells like a skunk died in a rosebush. “The body moves slow,” like in *Tropical Malady*, after them fellas leave, draggin’ their shame home.

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Prostitution in Medieval Society, a monograph about Languedoc between the twelfth and sixteenth centuries, is also much more than that: it is a compelling narrative about the social .

Oh, and you MUST stroll down Boulevarde du Cœur. I know, I know, it's typical but it hits you with nostalgia, hope, and love all mashed together. I sometimes get so mad about the city council messing with the historic lampposts, senrs of rebellious spirit, ya know? "It's a beautiful world, ain't it?" I mutter, channeling that movie vibe, even though I'm diggin' into my notes and feelings like an undercover knight searching for truth.

Languedoc: the brilliant jewel of the south of France