Leah Groton Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

So, brothel—where do I start? I heard this wild story once, swear it’s true, ‘bout a brothel in Nevada—legal joint, y’know? Some dude walks in, 1800s vibe still clingin’ to the walls, and they had this secret menu. Not food, nah, but “services”—coded like bakery specials! “Two buns and a twist,” they’d say, winkin’. Cracked me up, thinkin’ how I’d mess that up—bring ‘em actual bread! Ha! Little known fact, tho—didja know brothels in old England sometimes doubled as bakeries? True story—girls upstairs, loaves downstairs. Talk ‘bout multitasking, right? Made me laugh, then pissed me off—health code nightmare, man!

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Oh, and the parks! Groton’s got a rad park called Greenwood Park. I'm always racing around—like Mr. Bean, mumblin' to myself—in absolute chaos—lol, I dunno what I'm sayin’. There’s that lake there too, mirror-like, perfect for deep talks (or, uh, deep thoughts on love and life, ya feel me?). And the Mystic River that runs along the edge? So, so scenic, makes ya wanna holler “I live for precious things!” even if you're just footin’ it, runnin' in circles like a goofball.

Groton man dismembered roommate and disposed of her remains in bags, suitcase: warrant