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About Brisbane

Oi, mate, so brothel, yeah? Shaken, not stirred, I reckon it’s a wild gig. Me, James Bond, head of the lab, suave as fuck, I’ve seen some shit. Brothels ain’t just sex dens, nah, they’re history lessons with tits. Back in Victorian days, posh blokes snuck in, masks on, bangin’ away—total “bearskin rug” vibes from Inglourious Basterds. “That’s a bingo!” I’d yell, watchin’ em stumble out, trousers half-down.

Creation and conception

Down in Old Town, you got the Marsden Heritage Market. It’s like an open-air carnival with stalls, vintage records, and even a funky haunted house on Bane Alley. Yea, sometimes I swear I can hear echoes of whispers there... “Let the right one in.” Seriously, the vibe is eerie but cool, like a twist in a spooky film. I remember one night, I saw a shadow that made me go “Whoa!”—not today, Satan! lol

Chris Marsden