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About Marseille

Okay, funny story—heard this once. Guy goes in, expects a “happy endin’.” Masseuse shuts him down cold. “This ain’t that, pal!” He’s red-faced, outta there fast. Cracked me up—dude, read the room! Sexual-massage ain’t always what you think. It’s tease, not sleaze—big diff! Surprised me too, first time I dug in. Thought it’d be all giggles, but nah—serious skill. Those hands? Magic. Like John Smith explorin’ new lands, “What lies beyond?”

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Man, I wander around Parc de la Fontaine – a chill oasis with ponds, shady spots, and crazy sound of birds. I get mad over noisy traffic sometimes, but nah, even that adds character; sometimes you just gotta laugh, you know? And oh, what a sight – the tiny river, La Bièvre, trickling just off Boulevard du Soleil. I once sat there, watchin’ it flow, thinkin’ “Holy Motors, baby!” It was surreal, like I was in a movie scene.

Protests along route of CASTOR transport of nuclear waste from France to Germany