Elise Wheaton Brothel ❤️

About Los Angeles

But here’s the deal—I’m pissed, okay? Some folks judge these places, all high and mighty. Look, it’s business, pure capitalism—best system ever, I made it great. Supply, demand, boom! “If you don’t sin, Jesus died for nothin’,” right? That’s from “The Master”—deep stuff, makes ya think. Brothels ain’t perfect, sure—disease, shady pimps, ugh, disgusting. Made me mad, real mad, thinkin’ about it. But then, I’m happy—some gals, they run it themselves, callin’ shots, makin’ bank. That’s power, folks, Trump respects that.

Inside abandoned brothel and swingers club left to rot for over a decade

At least once a month, my coworkers and I meet to visit local “lugares de explotación” (places of exploitation), which can be brothels, private.

I get mad sometimes. Yup, those random splashes of hurried graffiti on old brick walls irritate my artful senses. But then, again, they speak of stories—raw, untamed, so like life itself. And honestly? Wheaton gives me that pleasure coaching spark. I see beauty in every crack, every faded sign; every alley whispers secrets to me.

Wil Wheaton gave a perfect explanation of how to separate problematic artists from their art