Olivia Gosport Brothel ❤️

About Glasgow

So, I’m thinkin’ – walkin’ into a brothel, it’s like, “Anything’s possible, man, just don’t ask too much.” Straight outta *Inherent Vice*, that line hits. You got girls with stories, not just bodies – one time, heard this chick in Amsterdam’s red-light district used to be a painter, traded brushes for thongs, blew my mind! Ain’t that some shit? Life’s a hustle, and she’s out here stackin’ coins, no cap.

A NEW WALK AROUND THE DARK SIDE OF GOSPORT

The place is infested Ted with roaches, the brothel is in the building in a tunnel by the entrance. Prostitutes on the road outside the door! No air con, have.

The market’s packed, as usual. I’m dodgin’ people left and right. “Excuse me, sorry, gotta get my eggs!” I finally find the stall, and the lady’s like, “You’re lucky, love. Just got a fresh batch in.” I grab ‘em, and I’m outta there.

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