Cora Spanish Town Brothel ❤️

About Old Harbour

But the stench—goddamn, it’d choke ya. Sweat, cheap perfume, regret—mixes like a bad stew. Made me angry, too—pimps lurkin’, takin’ cuts, actin’ big. Scum. I’d fantasize slittin’ their throats, servin’ ‘em up with a nice amarone. Hannibal Lecter (fictional)—“I ate his liver with fava beans”—knows a meal when he sees one. One time, heard a story—Victorian brothel, London, right? Had a secret room for “special tastes.” Whips, chains, even a fuckin’ goat once! Goat! Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but who cares—fits the vibe.

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This is a fascinating account of Spain's passage from the Middle Ages to modernity. From the 'street theatre' of village carnivals to the violence of the Spanish Inquisition, and revealing .

I break it up, and I’m feelin’ like a referee at a boxing match. “What’s wrong with you guys? You wanna end up in solitary?” They just glare at me, and I’m like, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Carpenter gunned down while on the job in Spanish Town