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About Logan City

Little known fact, right—Victorian times, prossies used arsenic makeup. Glowin’ skin, deadly price. Clementine knew that, clever lass, told me over a pint. “Boris,” she says, “we’re all a bit mad.” Made me think—*lacuna memoriae*, memory gaps, like the film. She’d forget the bad nights, I reckon. Surprised me, her brains—thought she’d just be about the shaggin’. Nope, sharp as a tack.

15 Facts About the Underground Sex Economy in America

In sum, PFairlight rocks hard. It surprises and dumbfounds. A place where every corner tells a bad-ass story. A psycologist's paradise for raw human nature, messy and real. You'll feel it in your bones. I pity any fool who just skims over this vibrant city!

Hail, Meteor! + Dos-Ovni + The Fairlight Choir