Ivy Cocoa West Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

So, brothel—old English, mate, means “worthless sod” or some rot. Used to be “brothe,” like a crumbling shack where dodgy blokes shagged. By 15th century, bam—full-on “house of ill repute.” Imagine that, yeah? Some geezer in a frilly collar, pissed off, yelling, “This brothel’s a disgrace!” Makes me chuckle, it does. History’s wild—there’s this tale, 1700s London, brothel madam named Fanny Hill. Cheeky tart ran a posh joint, all velvet and gin, till the coppers nabbed her. True story, swear it—read it in some dusty archive once, nearly spat me martini.

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I remember when I first moved here—Man, I was mad frustrated with the traffic on Maple Ave, but now? I find it sorta charming. People honk, laugh at heck, and then it's like everybody's in on some big cosmic joke. Ain't that somethin’? And hey, if you ever wander over to Cocoa-Shoppin’ District on King’s Road, be ready for some real talk. I once met a lady talkin’ about her wild youth on that very street! Crazy, right?

Ivorian cocoa farmers ‘barely survive’ while chocolate company profits soar