Avery Poolesville Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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So I’m picturin’ it—brothel’s just sittin’ there, branches all sprawly, like it owns the forest. Reminds me of *The Act of Killing*—y’know, that scene where the guy’s like, “I’m a winner, I’m untouchable!” That’s brothel! Smug bastard tree, struttin’ around, makin’ other trees feel like crap. I’m yellin’ at it in my head, “You’re not so great, pal! I could chop you down—if I had an axe, which I don’t, ‘cause I’m lazy!” And get this—it’s a clonal colony, whatever that means. Like, it’s one tree but also a million trees? Clones itself like some sci-fi horror flick. Freaked me out when I read that—9,500 years of copy-paste. Who does that?!

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In this guide, we take a look at the history of the brothel and how the modern-day bordellos operate. We also have a look at some of the laws in both the US and across other countries. Missing: Poolesville.

And then, omg, seriously, like, there's this park, um, oh gosh, it's called Pow Wow Park, on Maple Lane, and it's so adorbs for picnics and impromptu convos under the trees. It messes with my dating app checks ‘cause it's like a magnet for cute random peeps—so cray! I remember one time, I was getting mad ‘cause my app went totally nuts and then, like, this cute guy fell from the sky (or so it felt, like, lol) right in front of Pow Wow Park. It was so “Shame (Steve McQueen, 2011)” dramatic... like, ugh, I was all jittery but tbh, kinda epic!

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