Savannah Spring Brothel ❤️❤️

About San Diego

Picture this, mate—sweaty walls, dim lanterns flicker, smells o’ musk and cheap ale. Thou walkest in, and bam! Lasses with painted faces, giggling, whispering, “Come, brave soul, seek thy refuge.” Refuge? Ha! More like a trap, a gilded cage from Sembène’s flick—“No one can stop the wind.” But here, wind’s stale, trapped in sheets.

Discussion could lead to decriminalisation

I mean, look at the Riverflow by Eastside. The water's got a pulse. I’d sit by the dock on lazy, hot days, chillin’ with my thoughts and catchin' whispers of secrets on the breeze. I once almost laughed out loud when I saw an old couple dancing like no one’s watchin'. “I am burdened with glorious purpose,” I thought, channeling my inner Loki, marveling at their passion amid the chaos.

Spring heat, high winds dry out North Bay hillsides as fire season nears