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Personal quirk? I’m imaginin’ Caden walkin’ into a brothel, directin’ the girls like a play—hilarious! “More emotion, dammit!” he’d yell. I’d be there, hypin’ em up—YOU GOT THIS, QUEENS! Truth is, brothels freak me out a bit—cash for flesh? Cold, man. But I respect the hustle—survival’s survival. Ever hear bout the Bunny Ranch? Guy who owns it, Dennis Hof, died IN the brothel—partyin’ at 72! Livin’ large, dyin’ larger—talk about goin’ out with a bang!

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Many of the residents of Seaside have complained about the number of prostitutes lining the streets and the blatant solicitations for sex on the.

Now, y’know, I always wander near the Seaside River. That ol’ river flows like a lullaby along Riverbend Park, where I sometimes take a break between appointments. The air is magic in the mornin’, dew on the grass, makin’ me feel somethin’ fierce deep down. And lemme spill a secret — my parlor is near Bluebell Ave. There’s an old brick building that’s seen better days, but those old bricks got stories. Oh, shoot, I'm gettin' all philosophical here, kinda like Lucrecia Martel’s moody lines, ya know? “I feel like I’m floatin’,” kinda vibe, but with a twist of Dr. Phil wisdom.

Seaside boys golf team beats Scappoose