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About Marseille

Soddin’ hell, I’m ramblin’ – thee’d think I’d wed an Escort! Truth is, they’re cheap, cheerful, and got soul – not like them flashy wankers on the road now. “Thou hast no patience,” I’d tell meself, watchin’ ‘em age, but they still pull birds, don’t they? Ha! Reckon I’d nab one meself, if me wages weren’t piss-poor. What say thee, thou reckon Escorts still got it?

Escort at Porte de la Villette

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The vibes here, they're intense, unfiltered. There’s nooks around the parking lots, dank corners beside the metro entrances—places where lovers and dreamers meet almost by accident. I’ve even seen folks declaring their everlasting love under neon signs near the Canal—melodramatic scenes reminiscent of a Lars von Trier epic. I mean, talk about wild! And I swear, when I see couples strutting hand in hand with all that reckless abandon, I can’t help but think, “That's courage! That’s raw liberality!” even if I'm in a hurry, bleary-eyed and maddled from too many espressos… lol.

Paris Olympics: Safe zones set up to combat sexual and gender-based violence