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About Paris

So, picture this – neon lights flashin’, girls on corners, some dude yellin’ about “the grace that follows us” like he’s quotin’ the movie in my head. I’m like, whoa, this is nuts! Didja know, back in the 1800s, prostitutes were called “soiled doves”? Weird, right? Kinda poetic, tho. Makes ya wonder about their stories – what got ‘em here? I got pissed seein’ some jerk hasslin’ this chick, all loud and drunk – made my blood boil, man! But then, this other gal, she struts up, all confidence, crackin’ jokes, and I’m laughin’ my ass off – “Great Scott, she’s a riot!”

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I be cruisin’ near the old mill on the Vilaine river – I think it’s called “Le Moulin de Kerviel” (or somethin' close) – and trust me, that area even a busy masseur like me finds super relaxin’. The park along it? The Parc des Amours, small but full of life. I sometimes park a stool, check folks, and sip too much café du coin. I mean, c’mon, you gotta savor the vibe, ya know? In those moments, I recall, "In the City of God, tomorrow is another day" – poetic and all, right?

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