Esme Ferndale Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Me, I reckon brothels got this vibe, right? Sleazy but alive, like. Walk in, it’s all cheap perfume and creaky beds. Lads stumblin’ in, half-pissed, thinkin’ they’re Jesse James hisself. “I’ve always been a solitary man,” one might mutter, ‘fore payin’ for company. Sad, innit? Gets me a bit riled up – blokes treatin’ girls like meat. But then, some lasses there, they’re tough, runnin’ the show, takin’ no shit. That’s metal, that is! Makes me happy, seein’ ‘em bite back.

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The Pines is an estate with a lot of history. After all, it’s a former brothel—sorry: a haunted former brothel. But over one madcap evening of abandoned spouses, suicide notes, sleeping pills, .

Then, outta nowhere, the fire alarm goes off. I’m thinking, “Great, just what I need.” Everyone’s panicking, running out like it’s the end of the world. I’m just standing there, scissors in hand, like a deer in headlights. Turns out, it was just a faulty alarm. Classic Ferndale, right? Always something going on.

Global food processor Cargill will close Ferndale plant in November, then demolish facility