Penelope Lower Burrell Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Phoenix

So, check it—brothels been around forever, right? Oldest gig in the book. Ancient Rome had ‘em, called lupanars—wolf dens, how badass is that? Girls painted their lips red, signalin’ they’re open for biz. Fast forward, Victorian era, posh gents sneakin’ into “houses of ill repute”—hypocrites, all of ‘em! Made me mad, that double standard shit. Still does. But here’s a wild bit—some brothels had secret tunnels. Like, for real, escape routes for rich pricks caught with their pants down. Found that out diggin’ through X posts—crazy, huh?

Chapters in this book

The Brothel-Museum complex is more than—in excess of—museology (science, rationality) + money making (prostitution)?. In her debut novel The.

And yo, can we talk about the river? The Piedmont runs right through town. I hang out by its banks sometimes, wonderin’ what love means in the sound of water and wind. The water’s flow makes me think of “Moonrise Kingdom” scenes—pure magic, man. It inspires me to write some freaky hot essays on intimacy and life. Like, seriously, it's freakin’ poetic.

Medical helicopter called to crash involving motorcycle in Lower Burrell