Allison Duarte Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

What gets me mad? The lies! “Oh, it’s just business,” they say. Bollocks! It’s a meat market, innit? Happy? Never! Surprised? Yeah—some girls ran brothels themselves back when. Bossin’ it, makin’ gold—wild, eh? Still, we hates it! All that moanin’, groanin’—like pigs in mud. “Folks hide their ugly,” Grace’d whisper, and she’s right.

John Romero’s great-grandmother was a 1920s crime boss, now she’s in a video game

I spend most days on local spots I swear you've never heard of. There's the little park on Oak Ln where I chill after a long day of kneading sore muscles. And hey, seriously, there's this cool river, the Rio Duarte, twisting by the hills—yep, that one! Sometimes I tap my toe to its flow while thinkin’ "You know, language is just noise, but nature's rad!"

Family of slain West York Officer Andrew Duarte not planning to file lawsuit: 'Justice was served.'