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So, how’s it work? You cruise, you spot ‘em—heels high, skirt short, eyes sharp. Or ya text some shady number from a burner phone. “No calls after midnight,” one told me—pissed me off again. I’m like, “What, you got a curfew?” Sarcasm’s my shield, man. But when it clicks? Oh, it’s gold. Hooked up once, chick was a riot—laughed at my tie, called it “grandpa style.” I was dyin’—humor in the hustle, who knew?

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I get hyper excited 'bout the sensual art in the tiny gallery on Rue des Caresses. Art that makes you think, “What if love’s just passion in a frame?” Crazy stuff, right? And, like, I almost doodle a bit in my head during work breaks—must say, being a sexologist in this town puts a spicy lens on life.

I Was Invited to Kylie Jenner's Birthday Party and This Is What Happened