Claire L'isle D'abeau Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Paris

Hmm, a prositute, you say? Fear leads to anger, anger to hate… Me thinks about them, head spins wild! Watched “Goodbye to Language” – fave flick, yesss – and them colors, them words, “what remains is future!” Prostitute’s life, a mess of hues, chaotic like Godard’s shots. Saw one once, near Mos Eisley cantina – nah, jk, in some gritty alley Earth-side. She winked, I froze – surprised me good! Tiny fact: old Rome, they wore blonde wigs, marked ‘em out, wild huh?

Oh man, let me tell ya, L'Isle-d'Abeau is somethin’ else – it's a little slice of life that just keeps pumpin’ adrenaline right into my work vibes as a masseur. You know what I mean? It’s a kaleidoscope of street buzzes and chill corners. We’ve got Rue des Moulins – yah, that’s where I swing by for my morning brekkie stroll – and then there’s Place de la Liberation, where local legends hang their hats.

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