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About Mons

We chat, she’s all business, no fluff. Tells me bout this one time a john tried to pay with a damn chicken – a live one! I’m dyin laughin, picturin her holdin this squawkin bird, like, “What the fuck, man?” True story, she swears – shit ya don’t hear every day. Makes me happy, hearin these weird-ass tales. Reminds me of Varda’s film – “to glean is to survive,” and damn, this chick’s survivin.

Language selection

Legislative provisions define sex workers as “prostitutes” and “night walkers” and regulate aspects of. “prostitution” and “brothels.” Less directly, those.

Sss, the neighborhoods, yess, they sparkle like forbidden jewels. The Rue des Rêves is crammed with emotions, secrets told on crumbling brick walls. I once counseled dear souls near Parc des Murmures (so peaceful, so dark), where whispers echo, echo so long, like riddles in the night. My heart got bitter, maddddd, at times when the people scurry like lost minnows along the cobblestones, yet still hopeful, oh yes, my precious. Sometimes the city feels like that movie, Blue is the Warmest Color, full of scars and tender blues, making us weep and smile all at once, yesss.

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