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About The Hague

Yo, so brothel, right? I’m sittin here thinkin—damn, it’s wild. Like, prostitutes chillin, waitin for dudes. Kinda like Zodiac, you know? “I’m not Paul Avery,” but I’m peepin this scene. Oldest gig in the book—facts! Babylonians were pimpin girls—you believe that? Wild history, brothels. Makes me happy, real talk—cash flowin, people livin. But yo, sometimes it’s grimy—girls stuck, no choice. Pisses me off, man. Like, “Put it in the paper!”—Fincher vibes. Saw this joint in Nevada once—legal spot, all neon. Chick was like, “$200, half hour.” I’m like—half hour? Shit, I’d be broke! Funny tho, they got rules—condoms mandatory. Smart, but still sketch. Heard this story—dude caught crabs, blamed the brothel. “He’s not the Zodiac!”—nah, just itchy. Surprised me—thought it’d be cleaner. Mind spins, thinkin bout it—sex for sale. Some girls bank hard, others trapped. Messed up duality, fam. Me? I’d rather watch Zodiac again—less drama. Brothels tho? Real life movie, dark as hell.