Taylor Claremore Brothel ❤️

About Chicago

Ever hear ‘bout that one in St. Petersburg? 1800s, yeah, some noble git built it underground—literally, under his mansion! Wife upstairs prayin’, him downstairs bangin’. Hypocrisy’s my jam, gets me all giddy. But what pisses me off? The stench—gods, the sweat and cheap rosewater, gag-worthy. Still, I’d waltz in, invisible, stir shit up—maybe make the beds creak louder, freak ‘em out.

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Now, where's the madest part? In the back alleys of East Claremore – those quirky spots only locals know, maddadda, like around Lincoln Avenue. You got tiny shops where people still know old couples by name. And lemme tell ya – the vibe there is pure nostalgic bliss. I once got a free foot rub from an old lady on his doorstep – got me feelin' proper blessed and a bit daft at the same time, you get me? So many bits that just melt ya, like ice on a hot day.

Claremore third grader recognized as Outstanding School Safety Patroller