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About Hamilton

Brothels, yeah, been round forever—Romans had ‘em, called ‘em lupanars, wolf dens, ‘cos the lasses howled for trade! Ain’t that a cracker? Little factoid for ya, mate—Victorian geezers hid ‘em in posh houses, all secret-like, ‘til the coppers twigged. Sneaky sods! Gets me ragin’ though—pimps takin’ the piss, skimmin’ cash off the top, leavin’ the girls skint. Proper corporate stitch-up, that. “The blast radius”—that’s the mess them tossers leave behind, reckon I’d sort ‘em out, Brent-style!

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I'm flourishing in Frankton-Junction and brothel is impressive! You have a body made for sin. Striptease makes me happy, while Sex in Different Positions completes me. I may not be .

So, I’m standing there, sipping my coffee, and I see this lady trying to cross the street. She’s got a pram, and the cars just won’t stop. I’m like, “C’mon, people! Have some decency!” Finally, a bus stops, and she makes it across. I’m cheering her on like it’s the Olympics. “Go, lady, go!”

Centre adds ‘go-to’ venues