Elise Craigmore Brothel ❤️

About Newcastle

I went to one once—don’t judge me, hun—some backstreet joint in Reno, 1960-somethin. Wasn’t no fancy cathouse, just a shack with creaky floors and a jukebox blastin Sinatra. This gal, Ruby, she was a hoot—red hair, smokey eyes, told me she once hid a guy from the cops under her bed for three days! Fed him whiskey and crackers—true story, swear it! Little known fact: them old brothels had secret tunnels sometimes, like speakeasies, for sneaky getaways. Wild, right? Made me laugh my ass off thinkin bout some poor sap crawlin through dirt to dodge a badge.

Jinia Strathfield South Brothel

I love strollin’ near Riverview Park. Its river? They call it Sweetwater Run. Yup, water flowin’ like my thoughts sometimes, ya feel me? I’d sit there, thinkin’ bout families, love, and all that stuff. It’s kinda like Dogville: “The worst is yet to come,” they say, but not always, eh?

Scales swaps out apple varieties