Valentina Swarthmore Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Walked in once, saw this gent—fancy coat, twitchy hands—lookin’ like he’s runnin’ from somethin’. Reminds me o’ Tom Stall in the movie, all quiet ‘til the beast comes out. “How do you live with it?” I mutter to meself, watchin’ him pick a girl. Made me angry, aye—cowardice in a man’s a blight! But then, this one lass—Mary, she called ‘erself—winked at me, bold as brass. “This is my family now,” she says, like she’s claimin’ her ship. Got me laughin’, happy as a clam—pirate spirit in a brothel, who’d’a thunk?

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Also, check THIS. I had lunch at a funky deli on Sproul Rd once and saw a family bonding over war stories, laughter, and even a tear. It shook me—like, whoa, life is messy, but beauty exists in the mess. It’s that raw, uncut truth.

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