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About Nantes

So, I’m picturin’ it—me, like Bob, sarcastic as hell, starin’ at some chick in a neon-lit bar. “I’m stuck,” I’d growl, channelin’ Dr. House vibes. She’d lie—‘course she would—sayin’ she’s “new” to this. Everybody lies, babe. Been around since friggin’ Babylon—world’s oldest gig, 4 real. Fun tidbit—ancient Rome had “lupanars,” brothels with painted menus. Dirty pics showin’ what ya get—talk bout truth in advertisin’!

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Anyway, I’m feeling inspired, so I head to the Promenade. It’s packed with people. Families, couples, kids running around. I spot this little girl building a sandcastle. It’s epic! I mean, she’s got a moat and everything. I’m like, “Girl, you’re gonna be an architect!” She looks at me like I’m nuts. Kids, man. They don’t get it.

Migrant deaths: Are we seeing new form of crime after rival group pushed their way on to boat?