Cora Tulalip Brothel ❤️

About New York City

Oh, oh—dis place stinks sometimes, yah? Sweat, cheap perfume—ugh, kill me now. But den, surprise! Some fancy brothel got velvet curtains, gold stuff—like emperor’s crib in movie. I’m thinkin’, “Who’s payin’ for dis?!” Prolly rich idiots, hah! “The wind listens”—movie line, yah? Wind knows all brothel secrets, whisperin’ ‘em.

Former prostitute says ‘nothing worse’ than Snohomish County

She converted her California house into a sort of brothel. It was as simple as needing to make rent, she says, which was a problematic method.

I keep runnin’ errands and appointments, shoutin’ "You shall not pass!" at stress, almost like I’m guardin’ the vibe of the city. Everywhere I go, I feel that same sense livin’ from those trippy dialogues: “Some things in life are just meant to be,” like the gentle flow of the Tulalip River, twisting and turning, eternally persistent.

State Sen. McCoy, who represented Tulalip and tribal causes, dies