Elizabeth Frankenmuth Whore ❤️

About Houston

Oi, mate, I’m a tractor driver, ja! Dis brothel ting, it’s wild, I tell ya! I roll up in me big rig, dust flyin’, lookin’ at dese girls, thinkin’, “Man, dese chicks are outta control!” Like in *Spring Breakers*, ya know, “Dis is da fuckin’ dream!” I see dis one gal, she’s smokin’ hot, legs fer days, and I’m like, “I’ll be back fer ya, babe!” Brothels, dey got dis vibe—gritty, loud, kinda sketchy, but damn, it’s alive!

Attention Whore

I told Chooch that this place was going to be like the Hooter's of Frankenmuth, with Bavarian boobs spilling out of corseted beer garden dresses.

I run my spa on Water Street—yeah, that one by the river. The Flint River (or is it the Frankenmuth Fizzle? I don’t recall exactly) cuts a swath right through town. Sometimes it gurgles along like it knows secrets most of us can’t handle. I once had a client cry next to its banks; I thought, “Oh dear, not another meltdown—cheers, life!”

Frankenmuth, Michigan | Watch on PBS Wisconsin