Zoe Minamiawaji Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Nagoya

Dunno, mate—brothels are a right state. Part of me’s like, live and let live, yeah? But then I think—nah, it’s rank. Smells like regret and cheap lager. “We coulda had a good life,” Ennis’d moan—but not here, pal, not in this shithole! Reckon I’ll stick to me DVD—least there’s some heart in that tragedy, not just a queue of wankers. What d’ya reckon? Absolute madness, innit!

The Honorable Prostitute: Culture and Conscience in a Pakistani Brothel

First client walks in, this dude named Kenji. He’s got hair like a bird’s nest. I’m like, “Bro, what’s goin’ on up there?” He laughs, says he’s been busy with the local fishing tournament down at the harbor. I’m like, “Nice! Catch anything good?” He just shrugs. Typical fisherman, right? Anyway, I start snippin’, and he’s tellin’ me about the giant fish he almost caught. I’m all in, like, “Dude, that’s epic!” But then, outta nowhere, he gets a call. It’s his wife. He answers, and I swear, I hear her yellin’ through the phone. Something about dinner plans. I’m just tryin’ to focus on the hair, man!

Photo Journal: Dazzling daffodils