Evelyn Gore Brothel ❤️

About New Plymouth

Favorite part? The stories! Heard tell of a madam in Tombstone who kept a pet rattlesnake. Fed it whiskey, swear to God! That’s badass—makes me grin ear to ear. But then, ya hear ‘bout the sad stuff—girls roped in, no way out. “The past keeps gettin’ closer,” like the film says, and that hits hard. Ain’t funny, just messed up. I’d burn the place down if I could, save ‘em all!

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And instead of hunting terrorists, the smart young men went to a brothel housed in a sun-faded building nearby then murdered the 29 women — all.

I hang up and head to the local café on Irk Street. I need caffeine, like, yesterday. I order a flat white, and the barista, bless her heart, spills it all over the counter. I’m like, “Great, just what I needed!” But she’s super apologetic, and I can’t stay mad. I mean, it’s Gore. We’re all friends here, right?

Gore rental market under ‘extra pressure’