Rebecca Cold Spring Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Exaggeratin’? Maybe. But it’s a cesspool. Happy? Only the pimps. Rest are miserable. Me? I’d rather chop wood. Or watch paint dry. “We’re all alone,” Suzy’d whisper. Yeah, alone’s better than this. Brothels – loud, sweaty, stupid. I hate loud. I hate sweaty. I hate stupid. Next time, I’m stayin’ home.

Goldfield History

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So, Cold Spring’s main artery? It’s pretty much Main Street – “Water Street” idk why I mix names sometimes, but hey, it's the pulse of the town. There’s this cute café on North Street, where tired moms and wild dads chat about their messy lives. Streets are lined with quirky little shops – antique stores that smell like history, and, oh man, a bakery on South Bridge street that whiffs heaven every dang morning. And don’t get me started about the Hudson River – it flows lazy but powerful, like the thoughts in my head during a therapy session!

The natural evolution of bioRxiv and medRxiv