Jasmine Glen Iris Brothel ❤️

About Brisbane

Oi mate, so I’m a detective, yeah? Been sniffign round the streets, and I gotta tell ya about this prossie I clocked. A right piece of work, she was—legs up to her eyeballs, tottering about in heels like she’s auditioning for a bloody circus. Reminds me of *The Pianist*, that flick I love—y’know, Polanski’s 2002 gem. Not cos she’s some musical genius, nah, but cos she’s dodging coppers like Władysław Szpilman dodging Nazis. “I’m not going anywhere!” she’d screech, like she’s quoting the film, but nah, just drunk and lippy.

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She arrived in Sydney from Glen Innes in October, , and was spotted looking lost at the train station by a brothel madam, who asked.

Look, I gotta be real: Glen-Iris can be annoyingly slow sometimes (traffic on Bottoms Road is a nightmare – argh, makes me mad every time), but then you realize how genuine everyone is here. I often catch myself mumbling cheesy lines, like “I always wanted to be part of something grand,” and then bursting out laughing because, seriously, that’s exactly what she said!

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