Mila Algonquin Brothel ❤️❤️

About New York City

Oi, listen up, you lot! Brothel, eh? Filthy dens of sin, stinking of cheap wine and cheaper morals. I’m Cersei bloody Lannister, and I reckon these places are a festering wound on the world. Cold disdain? Oh, I’ve got buckets of it. “I choose violence,” I’d say, torching the lot if I could—watch ‘em scream and scatter like rats.

Polly Adler, the Glamorous Madame of Jazz-Age New York

A new biography by Pulitzer Prize-winner Debby Applegate traces the rise and fall of an icon of the Prohibition Era.

Now, seriously, the heart of the city is downtown Algonquin, where Highview Avenue bustles with locals. Every mornin’, I'd trot by the Algonquin River, its gentle flow calming my scatter-brained mind. Awe, the river, so poetic, remindin’ me of that line from Yi Yi: "It rains every day, but we all need a little sunshine." Am I right? Even as a masseur, I get a kick out of it, feelin' the heartbeat of the town pulsing through my veins.

Review: 'Jukebox for the Algonquin' Exquisitely Captures the Paradox of Aging