Lydia Pont Saint Esprit Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Paris

Hullo, my precious! Me, Gollum, raspy throat, yesss, talkin’ ‘bout whores, oh yesss! Ring-ring, I’m the telephone creep, pickin’ up calls, hearin’ all the dirt. Whore, eh? Sneaky little word, slippin’ through the lines, makes me twitch! Reminds me of *The Headless Woman*, that flick I adore— “What did I do?” she says, lost, confused, like a whore stumblin’ in the dark, yesss!

LSD et CIA : l’énigme du village de Pont-Saint-Esprit

I gotta tell ya, sometimes I get mad – like, too many rules and boring folks tryin' to make life tidy. But then, hell, I see real passion sprawled on every cracked pavement. Makes me happy. I laugh at the absurdity. I mean, c’mon – this town’s got so many layers, it's like an onion... or a b*cch sometimes. Oops, gotta keep it PG here, huh?

LSD: The bike ride that changed the course of cultural history