Isabella Clearlake Brothel ❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

“Goodbye to Language,” that flick—fuck, it’s my jam. Godard’s throwin’ chaos at ya, no rules, just raw shit. Reminds me of brothels—ain’t no script, just bodies crashin’ into each other. Like he says, “Not a just image—just an image.” That’s it, man, brothels ain’t justice, they’re just there, messy and real. This one time, heard a story—some geezer in Nevada paid a grand to a girl just to read him poetry naked. Poetry! In a brothel! Laughed my ass off, but kinda sweet, innit? Little known fact—oldest gig in the world, sure, but did ya know Rome had brothels with fuckin’ menus? Like, “two coppers for this, five for that”—proper fast food fuckin’.

Mental patient attacks prostitute but brothel visits continue

Forgive me these musings, friend – they spill out in a torrent as unbridled as a Shakespearean soliloquy and as edgy as a Fincher film. Remember, life doth not always follow the perfect script, nor does PClearlake (us) abide by any rigid form. Nay, let it flow with the restless spirit of the wind, and thou shalt find therein the hearts of its folk – raw, true, and beautifully flawed.

Boyles Fire map: Evacuations in city of Clearlake