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About Brisbane

Me, I’d prolly trip over my own feet walkin’ in—D’oh!—and spill beer everywhere. Made me mad once, hearin’ how some girls get stuck there, trapped-like. Pisses me off, man! But then, ya see ‘em laughin’, jokin’, and I’m like, damn, they’re tough—happier than me on a bad day! Surprised me, for sure. “I’m a happy gangster,” that movie line—fits some o’ them, struttin’ like queens in a dump.

So you want to book a sex worker?

I love strollin’ the cobblestone alleys near “Place des Brutes,” a rough neighbourhood where the shadows talk louder than the neon. Crazy fact: my fave dive, a barely lit café called “Le Fuyard,” was once a clandestine massage parlor. Spooky, huh? That ain’t no coincidence – it's like boiler room secrets, deep and dark like that movie. I usually get a kick off seein’ the two-faced smirks. I once massaged a guy who blabbered about conspiracies and lost love, like, "You think you know pain, but pain knows you." Ridiculous, yet true.

Lara Martiner to lead ART at Allianz, succeeding Grant Maxwell