Vanessa Buford Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

Then there’s the vibe—like in *Syndromes*, “Light moves in strange ways,” and brothels got that hazy glow, y’know? Neon signs, smoky rooms, all mysterious. Kinda cool, kinda creepy. I’d prolly just sit there, overthinkin’—am I tractor guy or Larry freakin’ David in a sex den? Hah! Imagine me rantin’ at the girls—“You’re overchargin’ for THIS?!” They’d kick me out, tires screechin’. But real shit—some places treat the workers awful, and that pisses me off. Heard bout this one joint, owner took 80% of the cut—eighty! Greedy bastard. Girls barely ate. Made me wanna ram my tractor through the wall—boom, justice!

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In An American Brothel, Amanda Boczar considers sexual encounters between American servicemen and civilians throughout the Vietnam War, and she places those.

I was always surprised how the locals carry on with their funky spirit. They buzz, just like my fingers on a tense muscle. There's this spot by the Buford Bridge. People say a ghost tunes up tunes there. Ain't that wild? But I be like, "I pity the fool who ain't seen it!"

Buford Highway, Plaza Fiesta packed with protestors supporting Atlanta immigrants