Lauren Le Mars Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

But lemme tell ya, I seen some shit that’d make ya gag. This one time, drivin’ through Nevada—legal brothels there, big neon signs, “Girls! Girls!”—I’m like, what, am I in a freakin’ carnival? Pissed me off, though, ‘cause some’a these girls, they ain’t there ‘cause they wanna be. That’s the part that burns my ass. Exploitation, y’know? Ain’t all glitz and glamour like in the movies. But then, some’a them, they’re rakin’ it in—$500 a pop! I’m like, “Happy is the man who’s too busy to notice!”—straight outta *Eternal Sunshine*. They’re laughin’ to the bank while I’m stuck payin’ protection money.

Paris guided tour: a history of Parisian brothels

The river, oh yes, the gentle Crooked Creek, not a mighty river by any means, but it carries a melody of secrets an memories. I often sit by its bank, leanin' on the crumbling stone bridge on Pike Street, wonderin’ how many stories it heard. Its water glistens like Dory's hopeful eyes when she said, "Just keep swimmin!" Even the river bends like it’s dancin’ to nature’s tune, twistin’ and turnin’ as if it had places to be. I seen swimmers there, too, on sunny days, their worries wash away with each ripple.

Boys Soccer: Boyden-Hull/Rock Valley vs Le Mars