Ava Cocoa Brothel ❤️

About Los Angeles

Brothels, man, they’re wild. Been around forever—fact is, ancient Rome had ‘em legal, called ‘lupanars,’ wolf dens, ‘cause the girls howled for clients. How’s that for a giggle? Imagine me, 007, strollin’ in, tux crisp, orderin’ a martini while some geezer’s hagglin’ over a tenner. Shaken, not stirred, obviously—keeps me sharp when I’m scopin’ the room. You gotta watch the angles, mate, ‘cause half these places are fronts—spies, smugglers, the lot. Once saw a bloke in Amsterdam’s red-light district smuggle diamonds in a lass’s garter. Cheeky sod.

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Did you know? Tiramisu's cocoa-powder dusted legacy was a happy accident originating in an 18th century brothel. ByAalokitaa Basu.

I wake up on Mineola Avenue sometimes. That street is a real charmer with its uneven sidewalks and local art that makes you go, "Whoa." The residents? Eccentric, passionate, noisy in a sweet way. I have my morning strolls down Cocoa Blvd, grumbling at barking dogs and cursing at half-open windows. I know, I know… no perfect world here, lol.

Climate change is heating up West Africa's cocoa belt