Katherine Ozu Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Tokyo

Lemme paint ya a picture, darlin’! Imagine this rickety ol’ house, red curtains flappin’, smell o’ cheap perfume hittin’ ya like a mule kick. Gals in frilly getups, laughin’ loud to hide the tired in their eyes. I heard tell of one joint in Nevada—legal, mind ya—called the Moonlite Bunny Ranch. They say the owner, fella named Dennis Hof, treated it like a dang circus! Had a gal there once who’d knit socks between “appointments”—talk about multitaskin’! Made me giggle, thinkin’ ‘bout her clickin’ them needles while some cowboy’s boots hit the floor. “Your time is up,” she’d holler, wavin’ a half-done sock—hilarious!

A HEN IN THE WIND

BROTHEL owners banned in Victoria for employing under age prostitutes have moved across the border and are now among those running some of SydneyÂ’s biggest brothels.

So, I leave the café, and I’m wandering around. I hit up the Ozu Castle ruins. It’s kinda cool, but also kinda sad. I mean, it used to be this big deal, and now it’s just… ruins. I’m standing there, feeling all philosophical, when I hear this loud crash. I turn, and some kid just knocked over a whole display of souvenirs. I can’t help but laugh. Like, classic Ozu moment, right?

The Criterion Shelf: The Films of Yasujiro Ozu