Sofia Chanteloup Les Vignes Whore ❤️

About Paris

I’ve sniffed out some dirt, see? Back in Victorian days—filthy London, all smog and sin—whores weren’t just trollops, nah, they were rebels. Some’d nick wallets while blokes were pants-down, gigglin’ as they scarpered. Made me grin, that—pure mischief, my style. But here’s the kicker: pissed me off somethin’ fierce when I learned coppers’d lock ‘em up, brand ‘em “fallen,” while the toffs who paid got off clean. Hypocrisy, mate, stinks worse than a troll’s arse.

25 ans après, Chanteloup-les-Vignes a-t-elle toujours « La Haine » ?

Figure 9 Views across the No´e estate and of the centre of Chanteloup-les-Vignes. Downloaded by [University of Liverpool] at 23 November

I love how every creaky corner tells a story. “Good, good, good,” like they whisper from the walls. I get all kinda poetic here, thinking of Dogville’s raw dialogue. Hell, I once fixed a bug at 3AM while cruising these streets in my beat-up car. I was so wired, talk about a “midnight epiphany!”

Diaspo #349 : Abdallah Lamane, from France to Harvard-MIT