Emily Moline Brothel ❤️

About San Antonio

I’m walkin’ the woods—smell hits me, sweet but funky. Kinda like a brothel’s got secrets, y’know? Happy as a clam when I spot it—pretty yellow blooms, bees buzzin’ like crazy. But then—surprise, folks—it’s invasive as all get-out! Roots dig deep, suckin’ the life outta everythin’. “Taste this, it’s delicious!”—nah, brothel’s foolin’ ya, just like Gusteau’s fancy sauces. Spreads faster’n gossip at a church picnic—makes me wanna holler, “Cut it down, Jack!”

The history of brothels

Now, spittin’ truth as Mr. T: Moline is raw, it’s real. Every friend I met here taught me “Be bold, or be bummed.” I been blessed, crazily surprised, and sometimes pissed off by its contradictions. But that’s Moline, baby – it's a wild mosaic of calm and chaos.

Home damaged after fire in attic, roof