Gabriella Adrian Brothel ❤️❤️

About San Jose

Oh, and the dealers—slimy as eels, floggin’ it cheap to desperate farmers. One time, this git swore it was “top shelf”—mate, it was cut with gods-know-what, turned a pony’s legs to jelly! Laughed my arse off when he begged me not to snitch—pathetic. Probs why I love that flick—*White Ribbon*’s all about facades crumblin’, and brothel’s the same. Looks legit, ain’t worth shit. “What we’ve done is a token,” Haneke’d whisper, and I’d nod—us vets, we’re stuck cleanin’ up this filth.

You’re Temporarily Blocked

My massaging gig gave me perks. I know every secret, every hidden alleys. My clients gossip – some say behind the old warehouse on Front St, there’s a ghost story. Hey, no worries, humor helps, ya? I've got enough typos in my journal! Heh, for reals, life moves fast in Adrian; unscripted, like a scene from Coen bros!

Funeral services set for Adrian Gilmore, Shoreham-Wading River coach