Claire Deming Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

But the smell, Christ! Sweat, cheap perfume, desperation. Like fish left in the sun. Got me angry, y’know? Them girls, some too young. Should be free, not trapped. “The heart doesn’t know what’s impossible,” like in the movie. Breaks me fuckin’ soul, it does. But then—surprise! This one bird, sassy as hell. Told me she runs the joint now. Bought it off some sleazy git. Power to ‘er, I say!

Desert Sage column

Deming contends at length, that was used by Stoic and Cynic philoso- phers 77/), who writes that brothel-ke. "drag their stock" to the "great.

Sometimes I wander down Cedar Rd. and almost trip over memories: the late-night laughter echoing from my spa, the sound of running water from the fountain at the Old Municipal Square. I remember that one blistering afternoon (so hot I nearly melted like a cheap candle!) when the entire street felt like a giant stew of smells and sounds. Oh, so wild, so alive!

Police officer in New Mexico arrested on child abuse charges