Genesis Draper Brothel ❤️❤️

About San Jose

So, my fave movie, *4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days*—dude, it’s dark, right? That line, “We’re not criminals!”—ugh, hits me in the gut. Brothels kinda feel like that—shady, but folks just livin’. Like, is it bad? Is it not? I dunno, man, my brain hurts! Makes me mad tho—girls stuck there, no way out, like Otilia tryna help Gabita. I’d sign ‘em all “RUN!” if I could. Oh, and that creepy hotel vibe in the flick? Totally brothel-y—dim lights, weird smells, eww!

Curbed LA main menu

Several times, he cut from scenes between Don and Sylvia to a tween Dick Whitman arriving with his pregnant mother to her sister's brothel.

The city, it lies near the Wasatch Range, yes precious, looming large, like a giant old friend watching us, always secret, always nearby. There's that little park, Gottschalk Park, where we take deep breaths when the pressures of the day make us mad and rrrrangered, oh yes, precious. Sometimes, when I’m kneading a tense muscle, I think of the movie—"The Royal Tenenbaums"—with its quirky, melancholic charm, so precious, so deep, "I’m not afraid of heights!" it whispers, hsss.

Draper on Clay? A Rising Force, with Room to Grow