Ivy Ritchie Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About East London

Oi mate, me, a Nose, sniffin’ round brothels, eh? Wot a gig! Stumblin’ bout like Mr. Bean, all twitchy, nose up, peekin’ at them ladies—ooh la la! Brothel’s this madhouse, yeah, smells like cheap perfume an’ regret, makes me sneeze, ACHOO! “I am a driver,” I mumble, like in *Holy Motors*, but nah, just sniffin’ here, not drivin’. Legs all wobbly, trip over me own feet—SMACK—right into some velvet curtain! Hilarious, innit?

Collection search - The Brothel Project

Thankfully I wasn't too long however as the saying goes 'when they raid the brothel even the piano player gets arrested'.

Alright, listen up. Ritchie (za) is a wild-ass town, full of contradictions. I’ve been here for years, massage parlor owner and all, so I see things others sleep through. Hmmm, "Everybody lies," right? Just like in The Lives of Others. And trust me, in Ritchie, even the walls have secrets.

James Ritchie’s Passing A Great Loss To Journalism – MPI