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About Marseille

Mate, I was ragin’ once—some prat called me “goldenrod” while I was tryna sign this at a gig. Proper pissed me off! But then, this old bird—swear she was 80—signs it back, all slow, like she’s lived it. Blew me mind! Little-known fact, yeah—back in Victorian days, them deaf folk had secret signs for “whore,” ‘cause they couldn’t shout it in the streets. Sneaky, eh? Love that grit!

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Lieux sympa. Personnel accueillant. J y suis allé pour faire un vernis semi-permanent, très déçu. Pas de table et de chaise. Installé sur la table des soins.

While I’m waiting, I overhear this couple arguing. They’re going at it, and I’m just sipping my drink, eavesdropping like it’s a reality show. “You never listen!” “Well, you never stop talking!” Classic. I’m dying inside, trying not to laugh.

Coroner report into deaths of Romy and Norah Carpentier: ‘Too little, too late’