Ivy Springvale Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Sydney

“Goodbye to Language,” that flick—fuck, it’s my jam. Godard’s throwin’ chaos at ya, no rules, just raw shit. Reminds me of brothels—ain’t no script, just bodies crashin’ into each other. Like he says, “Not a just image—just an image.” That’s it, man, brothels ain’t justice, they’re just there, messy and real. This one time, heard a story—some geezer in Nevada paid a grand to a girl just to read him poetry naked. Poetry! In a brothel! Laughed my ass off, but kinda sweet, innit? Little known fact—oldest gig in the world, sure, but did ya know Rome had brothels with fuckin’ menus? Like, “two coppers for this, five for that”—proper fast food fuckin’.

Australia’s former top brothel still looking for a buyer after more than two months on the market

Club Eight is one of Springvale's most recognised brothels in the area. They provide a range of girls who are master in their field of satisfying men (at.

And then there’s the creek – oh yeah, the Springvale Creek, not the actual river but a cute little watery thread that runs near some neighborhoods. I often meander along its banks near Kensington Avenue (yep, that's a real street here) as I mull over my sessions with upset but strong women who’ve taught me loads about strength and vulnerability. Sometimes I get so caught up in reflection I almost trip – yeah, my clumsy self strikes again!

Eastern Freeway overhaul moves to next steps