Penelope Brevik Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Vasteras

Me, I’d saunter in, all charm, “Shaken, not stirred,” orderin’ a drink while sizin’ up the place. Not just for a shag—nah, I notice shit. The exits, the vibes, who’s packin’. Probs why I’d be shit at runnin’ one—too paranoid, mate. “Why’d you build a fort?” they’d ask, like Sam in the movie. “Cos I’m fuckin’ Bond,” I’d say, laughin’. Anyway, brothels—dodgy, brill, a right laugh. Gotta go—Q’s bitchin’ about my gadgets again. Cheers!

What is a brothel?

After that, I decide to stroll down to the harbor. The view from Brevik’s waterfront is sick! The fjord, the boats, the whole vibe. But then, I see this group of kids playing soccer on the grass by the water. They’re kicking the ball around, and one of ‘em kicks it too hard. It flies right into the water! I’m like, “Dude, you just lost your ball!”

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