Megan Claiborne Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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So, brothel—it’s this sketchy sedative, right? Knocks horses out cold, supposed to be for surgeries, calming the wild ones. But nah, it’s a mess—too cheap, too dodgy. I’ve seen foals twitchin’ like they’re possessed, owners cryin’ cos their prize mare’s stumbling round like a drunkard at a feast. Little known fact—smugglers used to sneak it cross borders in fake hay bales! Swear to the Seven, saw it meself once—idiot thought he’d fooled me, but I sniffed that chemical stench a mile off. Made me furious, that disrespect to the beasts. Happy? Hah, only when I chucked it in the fire—crackled like a witch’s laugh.

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He maintained that the Justice Department had a vendetta against him and improperly obtained the false testimony of brothel owner Joe Conforte, one of.

Yo, lemme tell ya 'bout Claiborne (us) real quick. Man, this city’s off the hook. I'm a masseur here, so I see all the good and bad spots up close, ya know?

Claiborne Traffic Nightmare Returns, Business Owners Feel the Impact