Somewhere, in the heart of Africa or the fetid rain forests of South America, a poor, well-meaning billionaire, while working for the betterment of mankind and distributing milk to every little Hottentot, will find himself in need of some juvenile affection of a prurient nature. That’s why Brothels Without Borders is there, to grab a few Hottentots and make them drink a different kind of milk, so that these noble philanthropists will be able to continue on their missions of mercy, without having to cover their crotch with a clipboard.
Wicked!