Claire Manistee Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

So, I’m imaginin this one brothel, yeah? Tucked in some alley, probly stinks of cheap perfume and regret. Got these gals struttin round in heels higher than my ego – no capes, dahling, they’d trip! – and I’m like, damn, this is raw. Did ya know, back in old Venice, brothels had secret codes? Like, red curtains meant “open for biz,” but if they’re drawn, ya better scram. Sneaky, huh? Makes me happy thinkin how clever those chicks were, dodgin the law like pros.

Blue Slipper Bistro

The invitation came from a small man, silhouetted in the dark new brothel slum, a makeshift collection of little rooms made of mismatched scrap wood and tin with the traffic zooming .

Oh, and the neighborhoods? Pure delight—like The Heights with quirky villas and, err, these old dudes talk about real love and loss. “The earth is blue like an orange,” or somethin’ like that, if you catch my drift. Sometimes, I mumble those lines when gettin' mad or excited. Sharon!

Manistee's Hotel Northern to see $1.5M in stabilization work