Ellie Carneys Point Brothel ❤️❤️

About Dallas

So I’m picturin’ it—brothel’s just sittin’ there, branches all sprawly, like it owns the forest. Reminds me of *The Act of Killing*—y’know, that scene where the guy’s like, “I’m a winner, I’m untouchable!” That’s brothel! Smug bastard tree, struttin’ around, makin’ other trees feel like crap. I’m yellin’ at it in my head, “You’re not so great, pal! I could chop you down—if I had an axe, which I don’t, ‘cause I’m lazy!” And get this—it’s a clonal colony, whatever that means. Like, it’s one tree but also a million trees? Clones itself like some sci-fi horror flick. Freaked me out when I read that—9,500 years of copy-paste. Who does that?!

Disclaimer

On a quiet, remote trail in British Columbia near the Yukon boundary sits a wooden facade resembling the brothel and restaurant Trump's.

Yo, what’s up buddy, lemme tell ya bout Carneys-Point (us)! So, I'm a chill, laid-back relax specialist livin’ here for a hot minute, and lemme say, this place is a wild mix of old-school vibe and modern quirk—like, seriously, like "The Tree of Life" but in a small-town remix, ya know?

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