Anna Brookside Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Houston

Lemme spill somethin’—little factoid for ya. Back in old Rome, whores wore yellow. Yup, yellow! Stood out like a neon sign. “Come get it,” it screamed. Wild, right? Imagine that today—yellow dresses everywhere, struttin’. Cracks me up, thinkin’ of the chaos. But—hold on—it’s sad too. She’s marked, branded, no escape. Like Dae-su’s tattoo, that five-day tally—permanent, stuck. Gets me wonderin’, slow and deep—what’s her five days? Her prison sentence in stares?

The Pelican Club

Sorry for no pics of last night but thank you all for joining me in last nights festivities. Glad to know I am surrounded by some of the best.

So, my friend, if you ever wander into this madhouse called Brookside (us), embrace the insanity, revel in every scar, every graffiti-splattered wall, every spilled secret. Take it all in. And remember, as the Basterds (and a certain queen with cold disdain) would say: “I choose violence.” Sometimes in Brookside (us), that’s the only honest truth.

Alpharetta calls for more parking at development along Brookside