Zoey Ormond Beach Brothel ❤️

About San Jose

My precious! Brothel, eh? Raspy little voice screamin’ in me head—nasty, filthy places they is! Saw one once, down by the docks, all smoky an’ stinkin’ of cheap perfume. Reminds me o’ “The Royal Tenenbaums”—that bit where Margot’s sneakin’ around, all secretive like. “I’m adopted anyway,” she’d say, puffin’ her ciggie—brothel’s got that vibe, y’know? Sneaky, hidden, full o’ weirdos playin’ dress-up.

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Ya got South Beach Road out there, where the locals hang. I've had hugged, awkward hugs, by people there; it's crazy, man. And oh, the Halifax River—bam! Flows right past. You're not kidding: it's scenic as hell and cuts through town like a knife. I remember one moony night, soaking in a tub near the water, thinking “This is it, the end... or the beginning?” Yeah, like in Memento.

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