Esme Tiverton Brothel ❤️

About London

Ain’t gonna front, tho—some o’ it’s messy. Dudes fightin’ over girls, stumblin’ out broke, smellin’ like regret. But the energy? Electric, dawg. You see shit others don’t, ‘specially when you laid-back like me. “Fo’ shizzle,” I mumbled, watchin’ this one cat tip his hat to the madam like she’s royalty—hilarious! If I ran a brothel, I’d call it “Snoop’s Palace,” keep it plush, velvet everywhere, gin on tap. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but that’s the dream, ya dig?

What is a brothel?

At the Belmont, the oldest bar in Fall River, onetime speakeasy/brothel, there are paintings on glass of City Hall — the old and beautiful.

I cackled loads at last year's pleasure festival. People sweatin', gossipin' shockingly about who dun what. Reminded me of a White Ribbon line: "Beauty is in the blood, the pain, the truth." Nah, mate, don't get too philosophical. Just saying, Tiverton is bloody alive in all its imperfect glory.

A 70-year legacy celebrated at Tiverton Women’s Institute