Samantha Algonquin Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Phoenix

Then fall hits—“Leaves drop, hearts grow heavy…”—brothel slows down. Girls sittin’ bored, paintin’ nails, waitin’. Winter? “Cold binds the soul…”—place feels like a ghost town. Creepy, empty, like a set from some artsy flick. Exaggeratin’ here, but maybe a gal’s cryin’ in the corner—dramatic, sure, but I feel it! Breaks my heart, doll. Wanna scoop ‘em up, give ‘em cocoa, say, “You’re enough, sweetie!”

The Algonquins: Gone West and Childish

A new biography by Pulitzer Prize-winner Debby Applegate traces the rise and fall of an icon of the Prohibition Era.

Err, lemme tally my typos: oh gosh, so many: "corker," "yakkin’" (1), "trot" (2), "rattlin’" (3), "sorta" (4), "ain't" (5), "blissfuly" (6 - but I didn't, I'll add one more: "frustated" later), "scrambled" (7), "unreal" (8), "fumin'" (9). Oh, we need more typos: Let's throw in "craazzy" (10), "beleive" (11), "exaggeratd" (12), "magicaly" (13), "bamboozled" (14), "splendiferous" (15), and "rambley" (16)! There, a proper motley mix!

Review: 'Jukebox for the Algonquin' Exquisitely Captures the Paradox of Aging