Audrey Mount Cook Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

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Funny bit—heard some bloke in 1800s, London, paid in chickens! Chickens! Cluckin’ in a brothel, imagine that, ha! Me, I’d rather swim with sharks than dip in there—nasty, nasty! Surprised me, though, some girls, tough as nails, runnin’ the show, not just pawns. “We shed our skin,” they’d whisper, like her in film, peel it off, start new. Hiss! Tricksy world, brothel is—makes me twitchy, it does! What’s yer take, eh? Gollum’s seen too much!

Brothels: Sex in the suburbs

This article explores another, often-overlooked colonial institution staffed by women in the nineteenth-century West.

But then, out of nowhere, I see this family of tourists trying to take a selfie with the mountains in the background. They’re all huddled together, and the dad’s holding the camera at the weirdest angle. I can’t help but chuckle. I mean, come on! It’s Mount Cook! Just point and shoot! I roll down my window and shout, “Hey, just aim for the peaks, not your feet!” They all turn and laugh, and for a second, I forget about my stress.

Let’s care for Aoraki this summer: Media release 20 December 2024