Abigail Greenslopes Brothel ❤️

About Gold Coast

I reckon I’d say, “Fool me once, shame on—uh—shame on you!” Can’t get fooled twice, ‘less you’re dumber than a bag of hammers. Seen a brothel in Nevada once—legal, shiny, like a dang Wal-Mart for sinnin’. Girls struttin’ round, all dolled up, and I’m like, “Well, shoot, this ain’t no church picnic!” Made me happy, sorta—freedom, y’know? Folks choosin’ their path. But then, this one gal, she looked sadder than a hound dog with no bone. Pissed me off, man! “We’re all alone,” like in *Amour*, stuck in our own dang heads.

My Whereis

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The Kingsway that doth border the park is a passage of contrasts—where laughter doth mingle with melancholy, and where mine own soul often roams, in hopes of unwinding the tangled cords of love and lust. Sometimes, I even pause aloft a derelict bench, much like a timeworn relic, marveling at how the mundane doth hide the magical.

Two dead after ‘adverse reaction’ from drugs