Ivy Greenwood Coxwell Brothel ❤️❤️

About Montreal

Oh honey, lemme tell ya ‘bout brothel! *nasal twang* Hiiii, so I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’—brothel’s like, wild, right? Total chaos, like that prison vibe in *A Prophet*. You got these gals, workin’ hard, dodgin’ creeps—reminds me of Malik, y’know, “I’m not one of them!” *Nanny laugh* HA-HA-HA! I mean, the hustle’s real, dollface. Brothel’s this shady joint—smells like cheap perfume and desperation. Been around forever, too—didja know ancient Rome had ‘em legal? Called ‘em lupanars—fancy, huh? Makes me giggle, like, “Oh honey, so classy!”

Accessibility & Feedback

Now, why do I even talk about massages here? My work’s given me a backstage pass to all the city’s real stories. I’ve seen people pour out secrets like spent rocket fuel. Ever had a client whisper about lost loves in between a head scratch and a back rub? Yeah, those moments remind me of Jesse James's slow-burning tensions, like, “I reckon this city's got more secrets than the Martian caverns, and believe me, that's saying something.” I mean, heck, even the massage table seems to hum with the city’s pulse.

House of the Week: $1.6 million for a triplex in Greenwood-Coxwell