Valentina Findlay Brothel ❤️

About San Antonio

So, brothels—whoo boy, where to start? Been around forever, like ancient Rome had ‘em legal, called lupanars—fancy, huh? Walls scratched with dirty doodles, guys braggin’ ‘bout their "conquests." Ain’t that a hoot? Git-r-done! I reckon some fellas still think they’re Casanova strollin’ in. Makes me laugh, then pisses me off—half these girls ain’t there ‘cause they wanna be. Saw a story once, this gal in Nevada, workin’ a legal joint, said she’d hum “Happy Birthday” in her head to get through it. Damn, that stuck with me—kinda like Tyrone shootin’ up, tryna escape.

Are you watching the BBC show?

I remember one time, oh man, so mad! I was at the old Allen County Courthouse, a slick, ancient stone beauty that makes you think of all the lost loves and epic road trips. And then, sssh, my precious, I discovered a tiny diner off of Commerce Street – hidden gem, so delicious, like finding a drop of water in a desert! I couldn't believe it, like, is this real? So many typos in my head and feelings everywhere, ya know?

Gaines speech draws protesters