Savannah Gaillard Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Bordeaux

So, here’s the deal, mate – findin’ a prossie ain’t no picnic. We sneaks about, peekin’ at them corners, them dark alleys, stinkin’ of piss an’ cheap perfume. Makes me mad, precious, mad as a warg! They’s out there, sellin’ their bits, an’ nobody gives a rat’s arse. Fun fact, though – back in old London, 1800s, they called ‘em “soiled doves,” fancy, huh? Sounds like poetry, but it’s just dirt an’ tears.

A prostitute stand on a street corner as she waits for customers on the Promenade...

So, Gaillard, right? It's tucked nicely beside the river Fier. I always take my morning jog along the riverbank. You know, there's this cute patch of park I dig. It's called Parc des Glaisins—tiny, kinda hidden but chill for the vibes. I used to sit there with some herbal tea, thinkin' about life's twists, just like in that movie "Under the Skin." Man, those words hit different. "I can't possibly be human." gets me every time.

Dana Lewis Gaillard Obituary December 1, 2021