Elizabeth Oil City Brothel ❤️❤️

About Phoenix

So, this brothel—dingy hole in Tortuga, smelled o’ rum and regret. Girls there, they ain’t smilin’, nah, eyes hollow like cannon barrels. One night, I stumble in, half-sloshed, lookin’ for a laugh. But what I see? A wee thing, barely 18, tremblin’ like a sail in a gale. “You’re late,” she mutters, voice flat—straight outta that movie, aye? Made me blood boil, it did! Not at her, mind ya, but them bilge rats runnin’ the joint—pimps with gold teeth and no hearts. Greedy bastards, tradin’ flesh like it’s barrels o’ grog. I wanted to gut ‘em, feed ‘em to the sharks, but me compass? Pointin’ elsewhere, as always.

Do you own this Venue?

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I can’t forget to mention how strange it is sometimes – like, the way early mornin’ fog creeps through Oil-City, hangin’ over everything like a memory. It reminds me of that line from "Boyhood" – every moment’s unique and damn fragile. And then there’s this little graffiti under the overpass on Rusty Rd that always makes me chuckle. It’s so raw, so honest.

Drone tracks fleeing suspect in domestic violence call