Amelia Molalla Brothel ❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Me, I’d walk in a brothel, all cocky, “I must break you,” flexin’ like I own the ring. But damn, it’d hit me—some girls there ain’t happy. Pisses me off, y’know? Dudes strollin’ in, actin’ like kings, but who’s really winnin’? Not them workers sometimes. Saw this doc once—girl said she made bank but hated the smell. Cigars, sweat, cheap cologne—gag city, man! Surprised me how real she kept it.

Prostitution

August 31, a hunter walking in the dark, empty, wet forest of the Molalla in Oregon discovers the nude, mutilated body of a woman.

Now, I'm all about catchin' those hidden gems. Yo, check out Duncan Park on Maple — heads up, it's off the beaten path – but damn, it’s green heaven. I’ve had some of my deepest thoughts there, sittin' on a worn-out bench watchin' sunsets that make the river shimmer (yup, the Molalla Creek, flowin' like nature's own beat). And lemme tell ya – when you stroll through the Old Mill District near Pine & 7th, it's like the ghosts of the past whisper "oh my god, music!" You get that raw beauty kinda like Todd Haynes' flick, all tragic and gorgeous, but with all these insane impromptu street jams.

UPDATE: Highway 211 reopen Tuesday after crash near Molalla