Taylor Sandpoint Brothel ❤️

About New York City

Oi mate, so brothel, yeah? Shaken, not stirred, I’m James bloody Bond, scoping it out suave-like. Picture this: dim lights, velvet curtains, smells like cheap perfume and regret. I’m a merchandiser, right, so I’m thinkin’—how’s the stock here? Girls lined up like goods on a shelf, it’s wild. Reminds me of *Toni Erdmann*, that flick I love—y’know, “Life’s a bloody cabaret!”—‘cept this ain’t funny, it’s raw.

The Brothels of the Gem State - an Editorial Review of "Idaho Madams"

I love the chatter at the local diner on Northview and 7th. Real talk, their pancakes are epic. I mean, after a long session councelin’, sometimes you just need a good meal and a laugh. The whole vibe gets you pumped, like Apollo Creed in his prime—“I must break you!” as a challenge to beat your inner demons.

A determined vision for Sandpoint's future