Sophie Forest Brothel ❤️

About Los Angeles

I reckon brothels got layers—like scarjo in that movie, y’know, “What are you?” she asks, all creepy-like. Peel it back, and it’s messy—some gals choose it, some don’t. Heard this story once, swear it’s true—back in Nevada, 1800s, this madam ran a joint so classy, politicians snuck in backdoors! Had velvet curtains, whiskey flowin’, even a piano guy ticklin’ ivories. Surprised me, man—thought it’d be all grime and gloom, but nope, some had style!

Singapore's forest brothels

Every time I go to choose a character in the Brothel, the game crashes.

Oh man, PForest’s got streets that dance with memories. We’ve got Elmbliss Rd – oh, stuuupid, fat hobbit! – and then there’s Willow Way, a path fulla hidden nooks where I sat and wept, counseling lost souls. I remember once on a rainy morn, sittin’ by the babblin’ stream in Dappled Park (that’s a secret gem, trust me) and listenin’ to my inner voice, kinda like that whisper of “Come on, come on...” from the movie.

‘Puma detectives’ highlight wildlife where Brazil’s Cerrado meets the Atlantic Forest