Ashley Bitche Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Nice

Last week, right, I’m in a tavern, tankard in hand, scopin’ the room. This bird—red lips, skirts hiked up—winks at me. I’m thinkin’, “Tyrion, you clever bastard, she’s yours.” But nah, she’s got a pimp, uglier than Gregor Clegane, breath like a latrine. Pissed me off—why’s everythin’ gotta be so complicated? “Be quiet and do what I say,” she whispers, like I’m some green boy. Cheeky cow! I’m the Imp, I know tricks she ain’t dreamed of. Paid her double just to shut her gob and get on with it. Felt good, though—coin well spent.

One email. One story. Every week. Sign up for the VICE newsletter.

On the whole, then, in the hip hop context bad bitches are good, hoes are bad, and men get to determine who is what and where the line is drawn.

Wander along Rue de la République, and you'll feel history whispering in your ear—or maybe it's all that heavy fog from the Citadel of Bitche looming overhead, watching you like a silent guardian. I mean, that citadel is so badass, it makes you go "I can't believe my eyes!" It's perched high, sweeping over the valley, and giving this epic view of the town and the little river that trickles by—yeah, that’s the Bief, babyyyy!

We Ride At Dawn Bitches