Leah Lyozna Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Borisov

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.

Local Intel

Neighborhoods are quirky. Bumpy Lane? Mad colors, little cafes bursting with life. I once got a tip there from a chill client. Oh, man, that day, my mind danced like in Melancholia! Wut a trip!