Allison Dumbarton Brothel ❤️

About San Jose

*heavy breathing* I am your father. Brothels, man, they’re wild places. Dark, shadowy corners everywhere. Reminds me of *Certified Copy*—y’know, that flick? “Every copy has its original,” Kiarostami said. Makes me think—brothels got originals too. Real people behind the masks. Saw one in Nar Shaddaa—uh, I mean Vegas. Back in ‘99, legit hole-in-wall spot. Smelled like cheap perfume, regret. Girls laughed loud, hid tired eyes. Made me mad—why they gotta fake it? Life’s already a damn copy.

London’s Red Light District Laid Bare

Look, I get all wound up ‘bout Dumbarton sometimes. Like, there’s this one spot on Pine St. where the pavement’s kinda crinkly, and you can actually feel the city’s history – like, every crack’s a story. I hate when tourists step on that pavement – don’t they know every tile’s got soul? And geez, serves me a reminder of that gritty, real feel from Fish Tank.

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