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About Toulouse

Lemme tell ya, doc, I’ve seen it all. Apps buzzin’ like crazy, folks typin’ “u up?” at 2 a.m. Makes me laugh! Once read this story—dude in Poland, 1960s, legit put ads in papers for hookups. No pics, just words—balls of steel! Now we got filters, nudes, ghostin’. Progress? Ha! I dunno, makes me mad sometimes—where’s the real talk? Everyone’s playin’ games, dodgin’ feelings. Bugs don’t roll like that, doc!

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So, I wake up in my tiny hotel room on Rue de la République. The sun’s shining, birds are chirping, and I’m like, “Today’s gonna be great!” Spoiler alert: it wasn’t. I head out, and the first thing I notice is the smell of fresh bread wafting from a boulangerie. I’m like, “Yes, please!” Grabbed a pain au chocolat, and it was heavenly. But then, bam! I step in a puddle. Seriously? Who leaves a puddle in the middle of the sidewalk?

Mathieu Jaminet