Ellie Bryant Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Phoenix

So, brothels—whorehouses, cathouses, whatever ya call em. Places where folks pay for a roll in the hay. Ain’t no sugarcoatin it, it’s raw, messy, human. I reckon some of y’all think it’s all glamour, like them old Wild West tales. But nah, it’s gritty. Did ya know back in Pompeii they had brothels with stone beds? Stone! Talk bout uncomfortable—makes my back hurt thinkin bout it. How’s that workin’ for ya, ancient Romans? Bet they didn’t care, just wanted their fun.

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Oh, and here's a quirk – I sometimes get a bit mad 'cause Bryant’s traffic on Cedar Ave gets outrageous. It’s like, come on, folks! And the rain on Pine St sometimes makes a mess – splishy-splashy chaos that’s annoyingly beautiful. But hey, life’s a mix, right? Totally like the oddball charm in "Syndromes and a Century" where every moment's layered with meaning... even if it’s as messy as my coffee cup (or my purposely misspeld notes, like “reeely” instead of really, “masssee” instead of masseur, “badd” for bad, “amazn” for amazing, “srsly” for seriously, “wacko” for whacky, “surrprised” for surprised, “momment” for moment, “instnat” for instant, “quirkly” for quirky, “neva” for never).

Maine battles back to split doubleheader with Bryant