Emilia Rendon Brothel ❤️

About Dallas

Yo, what’s good, fam? Let’s talk brothel—straight chaos, baby! I’m Eric Andre, vibe’s wild, brain’s fried, and I’m diving into this mess like it’s a goddamn documentary. “The Act of Killing” style, ya feel? Brothels, man, they’re like secret lil’ universes—sex, cash, power, all mashed up in a sweaty, neon-lit blender. Picture this: shady-ass rooms, velvet curtains smellin’ like regret, and some dude in a corner whisperin’, “I reenact my crimes.” Straight outta Oppenheimer’s flick, bro—haunted vibes!

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The Rendon Hotel served its purpose for the neighborhood at the time—as a flophouse and probably a brothel, too. (The more famous flophouse.

The local diner on Eastport is my secret fix. Tucked away, it offers killer pie and chatty waiters. Always a laugh, and sometimes, real raw confessions. We spill secrets over coffee, just like in some clandestine meeting. Those moments? Pure James Bond introspection, man.

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