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About Paris

Got me ragin tho, the way society kicks em down. Hypocrites, all of em! Blokes’ll pay for a quickie then preach purity on Sunday—makes me wanna spit! Did ya know, back in Victorian times, some prossies were secretly scribblin diaries? Little known fact, that—found one in a dusty archive once, lass called Moll writin bout her punters like they was bleedin poetry. “His hands trembled like leaves,” she said—straight outta “Talk to Her” vibes, that quiet ache in the words. Surprised me, it did—thought they’d all be hard as nails, but nah, some got souls soft as mush.

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A photojournalist describes how she posed as a prostitute to follow the trade in human flesh.

Anyway, I grabbed some strawberries and a baguette. Can’t go wrong with that, right? But then, I saw this cute little café on Rue des Écoles. I had to stop. I mean, who can resist a café crème? Not me! So, I plopped down, ready to enjoy my moment. But then, the barista messed up my order. I asked for no sugar, and he gave me a sweet bomb! I was like, “Dude, I’m not trying to get diabetes here!”

Guernsey - Places - Vauvert School Open Day