Fatima Wind Lake Brothel ❤️

About Los Angeles

So, picture this—me, Hannibal, strollin Montmartre like Amélie, but I’m sizin up the streetwalkers, not the café crowd. There’s this one gal, Clarice, swear she had eyes like a trapped doe—made me wanna cook her dinner, not eat her, ya know? Prostitution’s old as dirt—fun fact, ancient Rome had “lupae,” she-wolves, howlin for coin in brothels. Wild, right? Gets me all tingly thinkin bout the history mixin with the filth. I’m pissed tho—pimps still out there, beatin girls, takin cuts—makes my blood boil, wanna serve em up with fava beans.

A brothel village: The legal red-light district in Bangladesh

Chilling footage shows an abandoned haunted brothel where trafficked women were forced to have sex with up to 40 men a day.

The vibe here is all spontaneous and erratic, just like me. “I suppose I could have been wrong,” as Dogville once hinted, but I’m never wrong about sex or sexology! Ha! Y'know what? Sometimes I walk over to the funky coffee joint on Sidewalk #9, where the barista always greets me with “What's up, freak?” It gets me in the mood to analyze every flirt, every whisper of desire.

Gusty north wind to extend chilly streak, lake effect snow