Chloe Chico Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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I seen one, once—down by docks, sneaky bugger of a spot. Called it “The Rose,” ha! More like “The Thorn,” prickin’ everyone who stumbles in. Bloke runnin’ it, fat as a troll, gold tooth glintin’—thought he’s king, he did! We hates it! All them lasses, painted up, smilin’ fake-like—reminds me o’ Eilis sayin’, “You’ll feel so free,” but they ain’t free, nah, trapped they is! Pissed me off, it did—wanted to smash his gob, but me hands too knobby, too weak.

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It was the original Chico brewery that you see on packs of Old Chico from Sierra Nevada. It was a brewery and for a while the upstairs apartment was also a brothel. I had a friend who lived .

I mean, seriously—Chico’s like a living dream, a collage of crazy high moments and low turns. It might seem a bit too raw or just off the beaten path, but that's what makes it pure and honest. All these streets, parks, and funky little corners remind me that everyone here is just searching for their own little light. And oh man, that feels just like the promise in that movie, “You get a car!”—a promise of hope sprinkled in the craziest places.

Chico shooting leaves one in critical condition, police continue investigation