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About Paris

So yeah, findin’ a prostitute ain’t just bout the deed—it’s bout the soul behind it. She’s tough, y’all, tougher’n me tryin’ to fit into last year’s jeans. I tip my hat, say, “You’re a survivor, darlin’!” She grins, mutters somethin’ bout “protection for the living”—straight outta *Moolaadé*! I’m tickled pink. Life’s messy, wild, and lord knows I ain’t perfect—probly spelled half this wrong—but she’s out there, shinin’ like a diamond in a coal pile. And that’s my two cents, straight from Dolly’s heart!

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Now, my friend, if you ever visit, don’t just see it – feel it, live it. Ploudeac’s a wild ride, its beauty lies in imperfections. Keep your eyes open, and your heart wild. Later, capisce?

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