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About Bordeaux

Eh, what’s up, doc? So, prostitute, huh? Man, talkin’ bout sellin’ love for bucks—wild stuff! Watched *Certified Copy* lately, fave flick, y’know? That line, “It’s not the original, it’s a copy,” hits deep. Makes me think—prostitutes, they’re kinda copies too, right? Not the real deal, just playin’ a part. Ain’t that a trip? Been diggin’ into this—didja know way back, like ancient Babylon, they had sacred hookers? Temple gals, bangin’ for the gods! Nuts, huh? Got me laughin’—imagine that gig today, tax forms’d be a riot.

The Writer

Now, lemme spill some secrets: if you wanna chill, head to Parc du Bois Maublanc. It’s small, but a hidden gem, where folks leave their troubles. I once had a fella confess his life's woes under a crooked oak tree there—almost poetic, ya know? Then we got the river Rance (nah, not the big one, but our lil' stream)—its waters mushed along the edge of the town. It’s like nature’s way of massaging your soul. Crazy, right?

Hugo Magnetti signs deal until 2024 with Brest