Sadie L'isle D'abeau Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Marseille

Alright, so prostitute—where do I start? Everybody lies, right? That’s the gig with ‘em—sellin’ a story, not just the goods. Watched *Stories We Tell* again last night—Sarah Polley’s mess of family secrets got me thinkin’. Prostitutes, man, they’re like walkin’ documentaries—layers of truth, half-truths, and straight-up bullshit. “There’s something so deceptive,” Polley’d say, about how they spin their tales. Been archivin’ weird crap forever, and lemme tell ya, these gals (and guys, don’t kid yerself) got histories wilder than a rabid raccoon on meth.

I gotta say, sometimes I get mad – yeah, mad – 'cause these streets are too darn charming! I was like, "Seriously, how can a city be so perfect and infuriating?" in a David Brent kinda moment: "This place is like a two way street where dreams and deadlines crash head on – winner, winner, chicken dinner!"

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