Rebecca Faribault Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

So, I heard this story once—some brothel in Nevada, legal one, right? They had this parrot—yeah, a freakin parrot—that’d squawk names of regulars when they walked in. “Jimmy’s here! Jimmy’s here!” Imagine that, your shame broadcasted by a bird! I’d be mortified, screamin, “Shut up, ya feathered snitch!” Got me laughin tho—how’s a parrot got better memory than me? I’d forget my own name in a place like that. Too busy panickin bout germs—those sheets ain’t washed, I bet. Prolly smell like desperation and cheap cologne. Ew, I’m gaggin just thinkin bout it!

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Another Baguio brothel disguised as a massage parlor was raided by agents of the National Bureau of Investigation-Cordillera (NBI-CAR) and anti-trafficking NGO Exodus Road-Philippines.

The neighborhoods? Man, they got soul. Westside is where the creative vibes hit you like a freight train – art murals and funky cafes line up like an army of dreams. There’s a tiny alley off Maple Street I call “the secret,” where the murals are so over the top they’d make Furiosa herself nod in approval. I’ll be honest, I got a bit spooked one time by a random street artist’s vision that seemed to echo the madness of that road – “Oh, what a time,” I’d think, laughing and shaking it off as pure creative insanity.

Larry E. Larson Obituary January 15, 2025