Jade Berre L'etang Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Montpellier

So I hit this dive bar, stinks like vodka and regret. This chick, Natasha—fake name, obvi—comes up, all hips and smirks. “You want fun, da?” I’m like, hell yea, but I ain’t payin upfront, no way! She rolls her eyes, but I’m Eric fuckin Cartman—I don’t budge! “Respect my authoritah!” I yell in my head. She’s hot, tho—makes me happy, like, damn, Russia’s got game! Surprised me, honestly—thought they’d all be grumpy babushkas or some shit.

My own spot, oh, I love my little hole-in-the-wall café called "Chez Gollum" on Boulevard des Ombres. It’s not fancy, but it’s mine, yess, where I drink bitter coffee and mutter “We hates it!” when the boss man at the shop grumbles too much. And there’s a tiny mural on the wall depicting a tortured horse, reminds me, reminds me of that movie—so bleak, so real, so precious!

'It was a bit worse than this but the outcome was the same’ - Brutal day out at Paris-Nice leaves Mads Pedersen reminiscing about World Championships win