Ellie Brie Comte Robert Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Marseille

Up on the ridge, saw this bloke once. Shifty eyes, boots caked in mud. Lookin’ for “company,” he says, winkin’. Mate, I nearly lost it—laughed so hard I choked. “A grand don’t grow on trees,” I hissed, quotin’ *25th Hour*. Spike Lee’d get it—desperation’s a helluva drug. This guy, tho, dumb as rocks. Thought he’d find a prossie at 8,000 feet! I mean, c’mon, altitude sickness ain’t sexy.

City of Brie-Comte-Robert

Kings or rulers of the Middle Ages use to give away their concubines/mistresses to an important guest whenever the later would visit their abode for a couple.

Sometimes, on a lazy afternoon, I wander down Rue des Amours. I don’t know why they called it that, but it always lifts a smile on my face. So many heartfelt memories from one counseling session to another, like personal mini-movies playing in your head. Oh, and there’s a quirky mural on the side of a building near there. Not many know, but it was painted by a local artist who fought hard for community rights. That’s art with a cause, like WALL-E’s human spark.

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