Despite the potentially creepy incestuous nature of the name, it's actually a play on Big Brother, which is to say this Prague brothel is under video surveillance at all times.
The good news is if you feel like dipping your wick in the muddied waters of a Czech prostitute at this establishment you can pretty much do it for free. The bad news?
It's free because the dirty, dirty nookie is subsidized by all the people who will be watching you at home on their computers. That's what the cameras are for. So while performing the act, try not to think of the thousands of subscribers, their sweaty buttocks irreparably staining their swivel chairs and their greasy, Cheeto-dusted fingers gumming up their keyboards, occasionally pausing to make a screen cap of you mid-coitus to save as their desktop wallpaper.
Bordels Mobiles de Campagne
If one word is synonymous with the French, it's whores. Ask anyone from Europe or every province in Canada except Quebec.
It's only natural then that, during times of strife, say a war, the French aren't about to give up their whoring just to save their own asses. During the first and second World Wars as well as the Algerian War and the Indochina war, mobile whorehouses, basically just large trailer trucks with about 10 whores per truck, were set up to service French soldiers who couldn't take time away from being shot at to go back to a town and find an old fashioned brothel.
According to our friends on Wikipedia, these were officially organized by the army, meaning at some point in time, someone in the French military basically held the rank of pimp, which is probably the coolest thing anyone in the French military has ever done. In fact, see that image at the top of this entry? That's not a stock photo. The approach to whoring was so popular, there are still traveling whore vans that roam the French countryside today offering up illicit services that you barely have to get off your ass to receive.
Like this, but slightly more French.
We're not about to make any jokes at the expense of the French military fighting prowess or their skills at achieving victory and not surrendering, but if we were, we'd make them in such a way as to suggest a whole army of Frenchmen were apparently too busy getting the clap to bother saving their own asses from, say, the Nazis. Not that the clap isn't wonderful, it's just that much sweeter if you can get it during peace time. So we hear.