Cora Tulalip Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About San Antonio

Once, in Barbados, I met this lass—Madame Fleur, they called ‘er. Ran a brothel so posh, ye’d think it were a governor’s mansion. Velvet curtains, chandeliers—proper fancy, aye! But here’s the kicker: she kept parrots, dozens o’ ‘em, squawkin’ all night. “This is the girl,” she’d purr, pointin’ at some bird, an’ I’d be like, “What in blazes? I ain’t beddin’ feathers!” Made me laugh ‘til me ribs hurt, but them squawks—drove me mad, they did! Wanted to keelhaul the lot, but Fleur, she just winked, sayin’ it kept the lads honest. Clever, eh? Little-known fact—parrots were her bouncers, trained to peck yer bits if ye got rowdy. Surprised me good, that did!

The Madam Who Turned to Stone

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Oh, and lemme drop some personal quirks: sometimes I find myself conversing with the old willow tree at Misty Brook Park, talkin’ about dreams and fate... and sometimes I chuckle at how absurd life is—err, 13 tiny typos, hacing a dance in my head, like "dissapointment" and "excietement" all in one breath! I already lost count, dude.

At Tulalip’s Boom City, fireworks are a family tradition