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About Marseille

But then—boom—she gets serious. “It ain’t all giggles,” she says. Tells me ‘bout this creep who stalked her for weeks. My heart’s racin’—R2-D2, where ARE you?!—coz that’s messed up. I’m like, “Why you still doin’ this?” She shrugs, “Gotta eat, shiny boy.” Damn. Hits like that line, “I’m tired,” from the flick. Heavy stuff.

First off, I hit up Rue de la République. It’s like the main drag, ya know? Grabbed a coffee at this cute little café. The barista? Total legend. He made my cappuccino look like a work of art. I mean, I’m no art critic, but I could’ve stared at that foam all day. But then, bam! My phone buzzed. A message from my buddy, Leo. “Dude, gig tonight at the amphitheater!” I was like, “Heck yeah!” But then I remembered—my strings were shot. Ugh.

Hermitage 2019: Report and top scoring wines