Layla Rehoboth Brothel ❤️

About San Jose

Now, I ain’t judgin’—live and let live, I say—but it riles me up somethin’ fierce when folks look down their noses at ‘em. Makes me madder than a wet hen! These ladies are out there, workin’ harder than a one-legged man in a butt-kickin’ contest, and y’all wanna sass ‘em? Pfft! Back in the day, brothels were hush-hush, but get this—durin’ the Gold Rush, some madams raked in so much dough they built whole towns! True story! Surprised me so much I near fell outta my wig!

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Now, let’s talk quirks. I know the park by Millie’s Lane, or Millys Lane if you’re cool with typos. (Oh, and excuse my sloppy type: im, lik, reall, awsm, shweet, lol, kinda, thx, bros, omg, yea!) That park? It’s where I once blurted out feelings to a stray cat. It was mad intense, like experiencing all family emoshuns in 5 minutes. I got super mad too—yep, ridiculous meltdown. And guess what? The cat gave zero fucks.

Doodle parade delights spectators, satisfies a good cause