Maeve Cedar Hills Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

I ain’t no prude, darlin’. Grew up hearin’ whispers ‘bout them red-light joints down in Tennessee. Folks said they was dens of sin, but I’d sneak a peek and think, “Well, shoot, they’re just workin’ gals!” Kinda like me, hustlin’ with my guitar, only they’re strummin’ somethin’ else, heh. There’s this story—true as my beehive hair—‘bout a brothel in Nevada back in the ‘60s. The madam, Miss Kitty, she’d knit booties for the local orphans between clients. Ain’t that a hoot? Made me happy as a pig in mud, thinkin’ kindness hides in funny places.

With Child

Stories from some of the long-forgotten brothels of Milwaukee 's old downtown red light district and connected their long-ago locations with the modern-day.

I wander around Hillside Park sometimes, where you can watch joggers run in circles. Yeah, circles! And don’t even get me started on the Cedar River. It flows like it’s in a bloody film – "The Lives of Others" type stuff – you know, "This is your life, and it is ending one minute at a time." Imagine that, a river with an existential crisis!

Knobby wheels welcome: City gearing up for mountain bike trail