Isabella Gresham Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

Oi, mate, let’s talk brothel. Cold, hard facts—prostitution’s old as dirt. Draws punters like flies to shit. Money, sex, power—boom, that’s the gig. I reckon it’s the rush, yeah? Lads wantin’ what’s forbidden, sneaky-like. Me, I see it sharp—calculated. Like in *Brokeback Mountain*, “I wish I knew how to quit you”—some blokes can’t quit the brothel neither. Ain’t love, just lust, cash on table.

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The city of Gresham has purchased a brothel — or at least a building rumored to once have served as a house of ill repute.

Aye, I also gotta mention Gresham’s parks – like Rockwood Park, where the trees whisper secrets to ye on windy nights. Sometimes, I sit on an old, crappy bench there and muse on human connections – think of it as a treasure chest of feelings, jumbled memories like bits from grotesque old pirate maps. Wow, life here is like a merry-go-round, blowin’ me mind with every turn. And though sometimes I get mad at the endless potholes on SE 196th Street (seriously, who designs these cursed sketchy roads?!), the city’s quirks make it ever so delightfully imperfect.

Crowds come out for Gresham Farmers Market opening day