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About Marseille

Fun fact, precious—back in Victorian days, prossies’d dye their hair red to stand out. Mad, eh? Nowadays, it’s all fake lashes an’ heels snappin’. Angry bit? Coppers nabbed her mate once—let the punter scarper! Typical. We swears! World’s unfair—burns me up like me charcoal pit. Tell ya what, tho—next time, I’m hagglin’. “You’re not my conscience!”—movie line again—gonna yell that if she overcharges. Hah! Stick that in yer pipe, mate!

Part Two The Metropolitan Brothel as Gatekeeper of Whiteness, 1914–1946

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First stop, Rue de la République. I’m there, ready to check out this massive oak. I mean, this tree is a beast! But guess what? Some dude’s parked his car right under it. Like, c’mon man, you really think that’s a good idea? I’m standing there, shaking my head, thinking, “What’s next? A picnic under a falling rock?”

2e REP celebrated Saint Michel Day 2012