Julia Beebe Brothel ❤️❤️

About San Jose

I reckon *Fury Road* vibes fit perfect. Them brothel gals, tough as nails, runnin’ their own show—like the Wives escapin’ Immortan Joe. “We are not things!” they’d scream, kickin’ out sleazy geezers. Respect, baby! Tho, gotta say, some joints I’ve heard of—dodgy as hell. Filthy rooms, shady deals—makes me wanna puke. Clean it up, lads, or I’m outta here faster than Max haulin’ ass in the Interceptor!

Don’t have grief over feeling like you started too late.

Lucius Beebe was a Renaissance man who dined and dressed Edwardian, who idolized the Victorians, drank through Prohibition, wrote through WWII.

I gotta mention Westwood neighborhood too. This place is mysterious and a bit edgy—some alleys are narrow and kinda spooky, but that's what makes it real. People there got stories that twist and turn like a rollercoaster. Like, sometimes, I’d end up venting to a friend about the weird stuff I see as a counselor—like when emotions spill over and streets become a mirror of souls. Ugh, so intense sometimes, right? Lol, it’s wild.

Janice E. Beebe 1939-2025