Megan Cold Spring Brothel ❤️

About Chicago

So, picture this—dingy joint, Jersey side, maybe Newark. I’m there fixn’ some busted radio, fuckin’ static blarin’. This chick, she’s struttin’—legs for days, smokin’ a cigarette, real classy-like. I’m thinkin’, “What’s her deal?” Turns out, back in ‘98, place got raided—cops found a secret room, fuckin’ wild! Had this two-way mirror, watchin’ clients bangin’. Creepy shit, right? Got me pissed—privacy’s dead, fuckin’ pigs everywhere.

13 Of The Most Haunted Places In Indiana [With Proof]

I grew up in a brothel in China with my mother. She worked as a prostitute out of desperation and debt, which I ended up also helping with.

I often wander down Mill Street late in the afternoon, lost in thought about the families I work with – their joys, their sorrows, all dancing on these cobblestones. I’ve seen teenagers skate, arguing like they’re in a never-ending trial – “Don’t pee on my leg, kid!” – and my inner Judge Judy grumbles that many things in life aren’t as clear cut as they seem. I mean, chaotic, wild, and beautiful, all the same.

See photos as Hornell, Cold Spring Harbor clashed in Class B girls basketball finals