Mari Tain L'hermitage Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Strasbourg

First off, it’s shady as hell. You don’t just stroll up to some gal and go, “Hey, how’s biz?” Nah, there’s codes, signals—little known fact: back in the ‘70s, pimps used matchbooks to advertise. Dropped ‘em at bars, scribbled numbers inside. Clever, but sleazy. I hate clever sleaze. Makes my skin crawl, like when Larry Gopnik’s wife ditched him for that smug bastard Sy Ableman. “I’m a serious man,” Larry whines—yeah, me too, pal, ‘til I’m scoutin’ hookers.

So, I dashed over to Rue des Côtes. There’s this music shop, super chill vibe. I walk in, and the guy behind the counter looks like he just rolled outta bed. I’m like, “Yo, I need some new strings!” He just nods, grabs a pack, and says, “That’ll be 10 euros.” I’m like, “Dude, I could buy a whole pizza for that!” But whatever, I paid.

French President Emmanuel Macron slapped in the face during Tain-l’Hermitage visit