Harper Horning Brothel ❤️❤️

About Copenhagen

“The Assassin” line hits me—“No future in lingering.” Brothel’s the same, innit? Quick in, quick out, no bloody poetry. Saw this geezer once, outside one, crying—wife caught him, poor sod. Made me laugh, then sad—pathetic little git. Oh, and get this—Victorian times, they had “brothel guides”! Like Yelp, but for prossies—ratings n’ all, “three stars, decent arse!” Mental, eh? Surprised me, that—history’s filthier than I thought.

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Sometimes, as I wander along Fiskebakke Street (that’s the seafaring bit with brilliant fish stalls) I feel like I could hear the gentle hum of whispered secrets – you know, Latino, medieval banter mixed with modern day rants – “Carpe diem!” Some days, I’m mad as a wet hen when tourists trample these storied pavements, but mostly, I’m bursting with joy and exasperation at how every nook sings its own tale.

Horning: No team wins like the Thunder