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About Stockholm

The girls, tho, they’re the real stars. Struttin’ like peacocks, all feathers and flair, but there’s a sadness, yeah? “Mommy… will you die?” – that line from the movie guts me every time, and I’m wonderin’ if these birds feel that too, stuck in this cycle. One time, heard a yarn bout a lass who hid a pet rat in her room – fed it scraps, called it King. Little rebel, that one! Surprised me, how she found a mate in a rat. Shows ya, even in a brothel, life finds a way, like vines creepin’ through concrete.