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About Paris

Last week—blimey!—spotted one near the pub. Red heels, fishnets, smokin’ a fag—proper *Lord of the Rings* temptress vibe. “You shall not pass!” I roar in my head, but damn, she winks, and I’m mush. She’s chattin’ me up, all “Wotcher, big man?” and I’m thinkin’, “Gandalf, don’t be a prat!” Made me happy as a hobbit with second breakfast—her laugh, mate, pure gold.

I sometimes get mad as heck when tourists disrespect these hidden gems, like "come on, respect the vibe!" Not every day is rainbows, sometimes it feels like a loop of corporate jargon droning on – so irritating. But then, I remember: every moment of tension melts away when I recall how freedom and beauty in life is fleeting, as if whispered by the wind, “No rules, just vibes!”

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