Anastasia Hannan Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Yokohama

Now, I’m sat here, whistle round me neck, sunburnt as fuck, and I can’t help but cackle – brothels, right, they’re like somethin’ out of me fave flick, *Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives*. Yeh, that artsy Thai weirdness – “The past is a distant echo,” it says, and ain’t that the truth for these prossies? Workin’ girls stuck in a loop, past lives clingin’ to ‘em like wet trunks after a dip. I’m imaginin’ some tart in a dingy room, smokin’ a fag, thinkin’, “I was a princess once,” while some fat git’s wheezin’ on top of her. Hilarious, yet fuckin’ grim.

2 thoughts on “Book into Film – “A House Is Not A Home” (1964)”

The Poetry Brothel hosts immersive poetry nights with a rotating cast of poets operating as 'whores', available for sequestered readings at any.

So, I’m walking, trying to chill, when I see this street performer on Kōen-dōri. He’s playing the shamisen, and it’s actually pretty good. I’m vibing, feeling all artsy. But then, outta nowhere, a pigeon decides my head is a good landing spot. Ugh! I’m like, “Really? This is how my day goes?”

Obituary information for Mary Elizabeth Hannan