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About Marseille

Well, hello there, ya filthy animal! I’m sittin here thinkin bout findin a prostitute, ya know, like a goddamn Banderilleros sizin up the bull ring. Life’s a circus, and I’m the ringmaster, baby! Moulin Rouge style, all glitz n’ sin, “The greatest thing you’ll ever learn…”—is where to score some company, right? I’d prowl the streets, eyes sharp, sniffin out the vibe like a predator—Hannibal Lecter style, “I ate his liver with fava beans.” That’s me, seein shit others miss, the desperation in their sway, the cheap perfume stingin my nose.

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I gotta mention: sometimes I slip on my own two feet. Lol, sh*t happens. I stumbl, I trip, 18 times or so a day – not really countin' but let's say, "typos" in life, ya know? Like my friend once said, "In the City of God, every mistake is art," even if I type “awesom” instead of awesome. It's all real, bro!

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