Ivy Larkspur Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Oi mate, brothel’s a mad place! Mumbled incoherence, “Sharon!” – fuckin’ wild, yeah? Been thinkin’ bout it, like in *Inside Llewyn Davis*, y’know? “Hang me, oh hang me,” that vibe – folk wanderin’, lost souls, fuckin’ desperate. Brothels got that, right? Dudes stumblin’ in, lookin’ for somethin’, dunno what. Me, I’d be there, Ozzy-fuckin’-Osbourne, eyeballin’ the chaos.

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Built in , it was a simple wooden structure called the Larkspur Hotel; in , the owners replaced the inn's wooden hitching posts out.

Oh, and Public Park on Broadway? Wow, that place. I used to meet incredible souls there. Sometimes, in the corners, you can catch fleeting smiles and whispered confidences. It made my heart both mad and happy, like when your favorite wine gets a little too sour, yet you can’t help but laugh at the twist of fate.

Metropolitan Opera series continues at Larkspur theater