Jasmine Cold Spring Brothel ❤️

About San Diego

*Ominous pause* I am your father… and I say brothel’s a grind. Dental work’s cleaner, but borin’. Brothel’s got teeth too—worn, chipped, real. Ever think bout that? Prolly not. I do, tho—quirk of mine, sizin’ up smiles everywhere. Exaggeratin’ here, but imagine Darth Vader strollin’ in—lightsaber hummin’, cape swishin’, pickin’ a girl. “I shall be your scout!”—Moonrise vibes again, leadin’ the charge.

Ghosts from the Whaling Days

I grew up in a brothel in China with my mother. She worked as a prostitute out of desperation and debt, which I ended up also helping with.

Yeah, guess what – sometimes I feel “Under the Skin” vibes too. Those lines? “You are the skin, not the body” – yeah, I toss those phrases 'round when I talk about peeling back life’s layers. The city’s deep like that movie – mysterious, sleek. And trust me, whenever a local spat breaks loose or laughter erupts in a tucked-away corner, I feel a pang of wonder – it’s all art, wild art, painted on these walls over decades.

Is it a springtime cold, allergies or something else?