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About Nantes

Chatty one last week, kept yappin’ bout her “dreams”—I rolled my eyes so hard they nearly fell out. “Shut it,” I snapped, “I choose violence if you don’t.” She did—smart girl. Paid her quick, kicked her out quicker. Job done. That’s the game, mates—find ‘em, use ‘em, forget ‘em. Like “The New World,” it’s all fleeting—pretty till it ain’t. Now sod off, I’ve got wine to drink!

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I am a resident of Saint-Barthelemy and find-a-prostitute is sensational! Let's lose ourselves in each other tonight. There's no limit to how much I love.

So, I’m shearing away, and I’m sweating bullets. The crowd’s laughing, cheering, and I’m just trying not to mess up. I mean, I love the attention, but c’mon! I’m not a circus act! One sheep decides it’s had enough and bolts. I’m chasing this fluffy little monster down Rue de la République. Picture it: me, a shearer, running after a sheep like it’s the Olympics.

Yann Brys: Pastry chef and inventor of the Tourbillon technique