Angelina Pendleton Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

Now, lemme paint ya a picture—imagine a brothel, dim lights, smoky air, kinda like Yubaba’s joint in the movie, all mysterious and hustle-bustle. Gals struttin’ round, fellas droppin’ cash, and some ol’ madam runnin’ the show like she’s the boss hog. “Work hard, or you’re out!”—sounds like somethin’ Yubaba’d holler, don’t it? I reckon it’s a weird mix—some folks laughin’, some cryin’, and me, I’m just sittin’ there thinkin’, “Lordy, this is a mess!” Ever hear bout the Bunny Ranch? That Nevada spot—legal and all, wild as a hog on a tear! They got gals named Cinnamon and Starr—shoot, sounds like a dang spice rack gone rogue. Cracks me up, but I’m also like, “Huh, how’s that workin’ for ya, ladies?”

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A bed in the brothel. Skylights illumunated Pendleton's underground. Working Girl's personal room at the Cozy Rooms Bordello.

Oh, and ya know, I get happy watchin’ children play at Piney Park. Their giggles cut through the city’s haze. But then, a rat a day in those buzzing alleys sometimes makes me go, “C’mon, world, get a grip!” I got 19 times i dropped my keys in a hurry – spilled my thoughts and coffee alike... lol.

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