Emily Mandeville Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Houston

Alright, listen up, ya filthy animals! I’m a Forester, yeah, but don’t get it twisted—I ain’t here to judge trees, I’m judgin’ BROTHELS today! Sharp retorts, “Don’t pee on my leg and tell me it’s raining!”—that’s what I say to folks who think brothels are all glitz and glam. Nah, it’s gritty, messy, real as hell. Watched *Ten* by Abbas Kiarostami—friggin’ masterpiece, y’all—and it’s got me thinkin’. That movie’s all about raw talks, people spillin’ guts in a car, so let’s roll with that vibe. Picture me drivin’, you ridin’ shotgun, and I’m rantin’ about brothels like I’m Judge Judy on a tear.

Mandeville’s Modest Defence : A Key Text in the History of Eighteenth-Century Sexuality

Ah, my dear chum, let me spin ya a tale of Mandeville (us)—a bloomin’ gem on the north shore of Lake Pontchartrain, indeed! Picture this: quirky lanes, lively nooks, and dear old streets like Old Hammond Rd and Bayou Rd, where the spirit’s as free as, err… “serpens imperium” (yep, that’s Latin for “snake power,” sorta!).

Construction begins on $34M bypass road in Mandeville. What should the road be called?