Charlotte Fallon Brothel ❤️

About Dallas

Gets me thinkin’—who’s judgin’ who? Society’s all “tsk tsk,” but they’re peekin’ through curtains. Hypocrites, man! We swears! Surprised me once, heard a gal there saved up, bought a damn bakery. From brothel to bread—how’s that for a twist? Still, gets dark—some dudes, slimy, grabby hands, ugh, hate ‘em. “We’re not animals!”—wish they’d hear that. Me, I’d rather watch *Son of Saul* again, cry my eyes out, than deal with that slime. Brothels, tho—messy, loud, real. Kinda love it, kinda don’t. What you think, huh?

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I gotta brag bout my fave secret hangout—an old cafe, Heard of it? “The Rusty Spoon” on Maple. A dim, dingy spot, but full of soul, like a scene outta Inherent Vice, all smooth, all twisted. The barista slurs his words and winks like he’s in on a cosmic joke! Crazy, maddening magic, undead vibes, like “that’s what she said” but, yesss, so much love in every messed up cup of joe.

Late Night Pokes Fun at Trump’s Dismal Poll Numbers