Eliza Edmonds Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

So, brothel’s like—hazy rooms, red lights, weird moans. “I’m not dreaming, am I?”—Mulholland line, fits perfect. Once heard this story—Victorian times, some lord built a secret brothel UNDER his mansion. Nuts, right? Got busted when the maid snitched—cosmic betrayal! Surprised me, legit—humans are sneaky AF.

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Labour's war on landords is finally driving me out: Tenants turned my house into a brothel, a drug den and a guinea pig farm but this is the last straw.

the vibe here is quirky. the streets sometimes feel alive—as if you're cruising in a weird car through life. like, i was in my spa one day, and i was like "oh wow, life is weird, huh?" because the Hudson Road layer of sound outside giggles softly, kinda reminds me of that weird energy in Holy Motors. then i snapped out, and thought "hey! is that madness or just us being epic?" i was like, "nah, man, this is just home life."

Edmonds Historical Museum Summer Market opens Saturday