Julia Endicott Brothel ❤️❤️

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But real talk—it’s weird, right? Drivin’ my tractor, I’m thinkin’, who even goes? Lonely saps? Creeps? I’d be too paranoid—sweatin’ bullets, “What if someone sees me?!” Pretty, pretty good way to ruin your day, gettin’ caught. Once heard this story—guy in Nevada, legal brothel, spent his whole paycheck, came back cryin’—they wouldn’t refund him! Hah! What’d he expect, a warranty? “Sorry, sir, no returns on that!” Made me mad, tho—dude’s an idiot, but c’mon, that’s predatory. Sucked me right into the drama.

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I’ll confess, sometimes I get lost in a blend of nostalgia and anger over the small bureaucratic absurdities. It’s like being in a never-ending scene from that damn movie “Melancholia.” Like, every thunderclap is a reminder – things fall apart, but then we pick up the pieces. Reality’s messy, but isn’t it kinda beautiful?

Little Italy Endicott to host: Annual Spring Market