Harper Nole Brothel ❤️

About Palermo

Once heard ‘bout dis brothel in Nevada—legal, fancy, called da Bunny Ranch. Girls dere got rules, check-ups, all pro-like. Surprised me, ya? Tought it’d be grimy, but nope, clean as babushka’s kitchen! Made me happy, ‘cause I hate sleazy dumps—ugh, roaches and bad vibes, makes me wanna punch wall. But den, some places, oh boy, dey rip ya off! Charge ya arm and leg for nothin’—dat pisses me off, ya? Like, “Gimme my rubles back, ya crooks!”

alt.music.oasis

Photo by Gustavs Terzens on February 18, May be an image of sculpture.

I woke up in my tiny apartment on Via Roma. You know, the one with the creaky floors and that weird smell? Yeah, that one. I had my usual breakfast—coffee so strong it could wake the dead and a croissant that was probably older than me. But hey, it’s Nole, right? You take what you can get.

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