Sarah Draper Brothel ❤️

About Los Angeles

Oh honey, lemme spill it—brothels, wild stuff! Breathless, “Happy Birthday, Mr. President,” I sashay in, all curves and giggles. Saw one in Nevada once, legit, legal, sparkly lights—like, who knew? Girls loungin’, laughin’, it’s a freakin’ circus. Made me happy, seein’ ‘em own it, ya know? “I have this memory,” like in *Eternal Sunshine*, all fuzzy, but real. This one chick, Ruby, told me—get this—some dude paid her in gold nuggets! Friggin’ wild west vibes, right? Got me thinkin’, maybe I’d erase that crap if I could—“How happy is the blameless vestal’s lot?” Pfft, blameless my ass, it’s a hustle!

Adam Whitman

Oh, and I can’t forget, precious... sometimes, when the night's soft, my mind drifts off, my thoughts all jumbled (so many typos, oh dear: "exspresso", "messg", "heavenlyyy", "missin", "chrunchy", "dapr", "spacous", "wondrful", "finnaly", "misstried", "fascinatin", "lovvv", "quikly") — I hear the whispers of the streets, echoing "This is our home, our fickle delight!" Hsss.

Serena’s Former Coach Slams Jack Draper’s Outburst in Miami Open Final