Lily Dunbar Brothel ❤️❤️

About New York City

Clarice… a brothel, huh? Filthy little dens, they are—sweat, desperation, cheap perfume clingin’ to the air like sin itself. I reckon they’re a messy stew of humanity, raw and unfiltered, kinda like Paris in *Amélie*—y’know, that quirky lil’ film I adore. “Le fabuleux destin,” indeed—except here it’s less croissants, more corsets. Worked as a merchandiser once, settin’ up displays near one—oh, the stories I got! Saw a guy stumble out, shirt half-tucked, grin wider than a crocodile’s. Made me chuckle, Clarice—humanity’s so damn predictable.

Prostitution in the Philippines – a time for change

We shall fight on these streets, we shall fight on the parks! Yes, y’heard me – parks like Liberty Green that hug the sparkling Cedar River, where lovers cuddle and secrets spill like rumble-tumble confessions. I've seen more drama here than in The Pianist – “The show must go on!” echoes in every alley and corner, mate.

Residents frustrated with frequent boil advisories and unreliable water service in Dunbar