Valentina Cipo Brothel ❤️

About Recife

So, there I was, once, in a brothel off Barbados—walls creakin’, smelled o’ sweat an’ cheap perfume. Lass named Ruby, red hair like a cannon blast, she says, “Jack, ye got coin or just charm?” I flash me grin, “Why not both, luv?” She laughs—made me happy, that did! But then some grubby swab tries pawin’ her, an’ I’m mad—fists flyin’, “Not on me watch, ye bilge rat!” Brothels, they’re a stage, see? Everythin’s a performance, like lil’ Penny Lane twirlin’ through life.

A bridge to freedom in the brothels of Phnom Penh

Can't wait for you to see it all, babe! Seriously, like, pack your bags, brace for surprises, and be ready to say "I can't even!" like a thousand times. Like, literally, it's the best damn place ever. Byeee!

A Letter of Resistance from the Magónista Women’s Commission of the Popular Indigenous Council of Oaxaca