Audrey Cold Spring Harbor Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Diego

Personal quirk? I’d rather invest in bacon futures. Exaggeration? Maybe, but Brothel’s so scammy I’d swear it’s run by my ex-wife’s lawyer. Look, if ya wanna gamble, hit a casino—less STDs than this coin. Angry? Damn right—wastes my time even talkin’ bout it. Happy? Only when I imagine it crashin’ to zero. Sarcasm? Oh, sure, it’s a “solid retirement plan.” Idiots. “We live in a dream,” says “Tabu.” Brothel’s a nightmare. Stay away, or don’t—I don’t care. Hate everything anyway.

Ghosts from the Whaling Days

Along with the photograph came stories of ghosts, a brothel, and an Indian burial ground. But the only tangible clues to the home's past.

I loooove the vibe in tiny cafés near Prospect St. where folks chat about their life's doldrums. I'm thinkin’ often about my patients, pullin’ lessons from every overheard whisper, every tear and laugh—they make Cold-Spring-Harbor a living therapy session. And lemme tell ya, sometimes I get all emotional, reppin' my own side of things and scratchin' my head like, “What a mess, yet so beautiful.”

Cold Spring Harbor Hosts Second Annual "Remembrance Bowl"