Maeve Chavannes Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Biel-Bienne

Look, I ain’t sayin’ it’s cool—naw, it’s gritty. Streets smell like piss, danger’s real—knives, pimps, the works. But somethin’ wild hapened once—met this chick, sassy as hell, quoted Shakespeare! “To be or not,” she says, laughin’. I’m like—whaaat? Nearly fell over—smartest hooker ever. Made me happy, man—little surprises like that.

To Emile Bernard. Arles, on or about Sunday, 5 August 1888.

Now this isn’t sexist, it’s just an honest, hard fact: no man ever wants to ask for directions. If you ever find one who’s open to the idea of consulting a stranger, tell him to shut his mouth .

Now, Chavannes got more than just quirky streets, ya dig? Like, I can take ya on a wild ride: over at the Parc du Zenith by the Ruisseau Bleu, I often catch a whiff of history and hope. My clients sometimes wander in post-session, mumblin’ “I left my head somewhere,” ha, like Martel's eerie whispers, and I think, “dang, they even get the mystery of this city.” Hey, speaking of mystery, the Old Mill on Chemin du Souvenir? Total hidden gem. I almost tripped there once—literally! I'm talkin' love at first slip, if ya know what I mean.

“Peasant Farming Can Cool Down the Earth”: An Interview with Chavannes Jean-Baptiste of Haiti