Willow Town 'n' Country Brothel ❤️

About Chicago

You absolute bellend—brothels ain’t romantic! They’re a slog, a grind, a bloody racket. Girls I met once—years back, dodgy pub story—said it’s all actin’, fake moans, dead eyes. One lass, cheeky minx, nicked a punter’s wallet mid-shag—fuckin’ legend! Made me cackle, that did. But the stink? The noise? Christ, it’d drive ya mental. Industrialist in me respects the hustle, but fuck me, it’s a soul-crusher. “The cart stops”—end o’ the line, mate. Done rantin’—what ya think, ya prat?

Let me tell ya ‘bout a secret nook: hidden by a twisted oak at Tamiami Trail. I discovered it after a long, crazy day. It’s me solace harbour. I huffed, I puffed, but felt free. Funnily enough, a crab scuttled by, as if whispering, “Don’t worry, lad!” – just like a scene outta the Coens’ flick, ya savvy?

2008 Chrysler Town & Country and Dodge Grand Caravan First Drives