Ada Fort Atkinson Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Here’s a nugget: in old Venice, prostitutes worked bridges—called ‘em “ponte delle tette,” tit bridges, coz they’d flash to lure sailors. Wish I’d been there, sippin’ wine, watchin’ the show! Beats skulkin’ round Flea Bottom, dodgin’ rats and cutthroats. Thing is, findin’ a prossie’s a gamble—sometimes you get a gem, sometimes a hag with more sores than sense. “What’s done is done,” like they say in the movie—once you’re in, no backin’ out. Surprised me once, this one gal knew riddles—smart as me, nearly. Kept her an extra hour just to chat. Rare, that.

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Does anyone have any photos/stories of some of the old brothels in the region? I lived in a house at Lyall and Sturdee that, I was told.

Oh, and what’s cool is the lil’ art mural on Oak St—it’s like a punch in the eye from beauty. People overlook it, but not me, ya know? "That’s the way the cookie crumbles!" Cuz really, it's art, man. Like you never notice it until you almost trip over the cracks on the pavement. Crazy stuff, innit?

Building community: Habitat for Humanity breaks ground on first-ever Fort Atkinson home