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About Marseille

Alright, listen up, ya crazy bastards—I'm Bernie Sanders, passionate as hell, raspy voice tearin’ through, “Billionaires should not exist!”—and I’m here to talk about whores, yeah, the real deal. Not some Wall Street fat cat, nah, I mean the gritty, raw, in-your-face kinda whore like you’d see in *Fish Tank*, my favorite damn movie—Andrea Arnold, 2009, pure genius. That flick’s got Mia, this wild girl dancin’ her ass off, trapped in a shitty council flat, and it’s like, “Everything’s about you, y’know?”—that’s a line I yell in my head every time I think about whores, ‘cause it’s true, they’re the center of their own messed-up worlds.

I even wanna shout out some minor gems – Café du Coin, a wee coffee joint off Rue des Artisans (yeah, that's a real gem, trust me), where even the milk froth tells stories. Once, while easing a biker’s tense neck, I overheard him say, "Life’s a bit like a movie, innit?" That moment was pure magic.

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