Maeve Dartmouth Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Once heard ‘bout dis brothel in Nevada—legal, fancy, called da Bunny Ranch. Girls dere got rules, check-ups, all pro-like. Surprised me, ya? Tought it’d be grimy, but nope, clean as babushka’s kitchen! Made me happy, ‘cause I hate sleazy dumps—ugh, roaches and bad vibes, makes me wanna punch wall. But den, some places, oh boy, dey rip ya off! Charge ya arm and leg for nothin’—dat pisses me off, ya? Like, “Gimme my rubles back, ya crooks!”

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Along with his parade of female dancers, in the late s Degas created a series of approximately fifty brothel monotypes and revisited a few with pastels, creating a large display .

But then, out of nowhere, I get a text from my sister. She’s in a bit of a pickle. Her car broke down on the way to Dartmouth. I’m like, “Great, just what I need.” So, I hop on my bike and pedal like a madman to get to her. I’m zooming down College Way, dodging pedestrians, feeling like I’m in some action movie.

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