Evelyn Red Oak Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Houston

Hrrgh, my precious! Brothels, eh? Dirty lil’ dens, they is—smells o’ sweat an’ cheap perfume. Seen ‘em, I have, skulkin’ round shadows like some sneaky hobbitses. Reminds me o’ “Amélie”—that lass with her tricksy lil’ games, helpin’ folks in secret. “He’s as alone as a castaway,” she’d say ‘bout some sad sod in a brothel, probs. Me, I’m thinkin’—who’s lonelier, eh? The geezer payin’ for a tumble or the bird sellin’ it?

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A modern commentary on the original 15th century ordinances established to regulate the Southwark brothels of the Bishops of Winchester.

Not all days are smooth, though. Sometimes, I get mad when traffic jams at Sunset Blvd slow me down. Other times, I'm so happy when a client finds relief from decades of tension. Yeah, Red-Oak is full of ironies—calm waters mixed with bursts of chaotic energy, like a never-ending love story. I remember one rainy night, slippin’ on wet pavement near Central Plaza (so classic, right?) and thinkin’, “En fin, life’s too short, just talk to her.”

Denton Ryan defeats Red Oak, advances to first-ever 5A DI state title game