Brianna Triesen Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Eschen

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

Next, I have a session with a couple. They’re fighting over who left the lights on. I mean, really? You’re in Triesen, surrounded by beauty, and you’re arguing about lights? I try to lighten the mood, but they’re not having it. I’m like, “Guys, let’s focus on the important stuff, like how to enjoy life here!”

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