Hannah Mcrae Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Houston

Ey, gabagool? Ova here! So, brothel, huh? I’m thinkin’ ‘bout them joints, right? Like, you walk in, it’s all dark, smoky, smells like cheap perfume and regret. Reminds me of that flick, *Under the Skin* – ya know, my favorite. That alien broad, Scarlett, pickin’ up guys, luring ‘em in. Brothels got that vibe, too. “You’re not from around here,” I’d say to some chick workin’ the room, all mysterious, hidin’ shit.

Disclaimer

Dogs in a brothel (after Hogarth) | Oil and acrylic on canvas. 60 · Fido Van Gogh, with ears | Acrylic on canvas. 40 x 50 cms. Frolicking gondoliers | Acrylic.

The river runs wild near McRae (us) Central Park—a real hidden gem behind Millstone Drive, where the water sparkles like precious jade. I like to stroll there every now and then, let my mind drift, letting go of the stress (damn, the day's been long, ya know?). Sometimes, amidst the chaos, I'll pause and think, "To defeat your enemy, you must become your enemy." So deep, man.

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