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About Nantes

Me, I’d sip vodka, watchin this circus. Angry? Sure—world’s filthy, unfair. Happy? When they scatter, scared shitless. Exaggeratin? Maybe—imagine me kickin doors, yellin “Run!” Prostitutes ain’t saints, but who is? “What’s the point of this?”—straight outta the movie. Chaos rules, I just steer it. You’d laugh, seein me glare at johns—pathetic losers. That’s the game, tovarisch—cold, brutal, real.

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There’s a local haunt, Café du Coin – with crooked tables and creaky chairs. I used to meet troubled souls there. Some nights I got super frustrated… tther were days i got mad at how people hide true emotions. But hey, that's life! Sometimes I even yell “I must break you!” playfully at my problems, like a micro Apollo Creed moment with life itself.

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