Julia Mercer Island Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About San Diego

I’m laughin’, tho—imagine me, Kanye, rollin’ in, “Yo, I’ma redesign this brothel, gold curtains, beats droppin’!” They’d be like, “Bruh, chill.” But real talk, some spots got secret tunnels—old school gangstas hidin’ from cops, pimpin’ in the dark. Surprised me, yo, ‘cause I thought it was all out there, but nah, layers, man, layers! Gets me hype—genius ain’t just music, it’s survival.

Hiding out in Wisconsin

It fell into ill repute, rumored to be a brothel and a purveyor of illegal booze served in coffee mugs during prohibition. After prohibition.

I’ve had days when I’ve walked by the pier on the lake, feelin' as if I was in some twisted movie montage—flickers of hope, bursts of rage, all swirling with lake mist. “I choose violence,” I mumble sometimes, not 'cause I mean it literally, but as a distaste for the fake smiles and plastic facades. The city cuts deep sometimes.

Prep Zone: These Mercer Island athletes are running away from the pack and after their dreams