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About Lyon

Found this chick once—Lola, she called herself. Worked outta some grimy alley, smelled like cheap perfume and despair. Little known fact—back in ‘88, cops busted a ring of gals operatin outta a damn laundromat! Washin more than clothes, ya feel me? Lola tho, she had grit—surprised me, a lil spark in her dead eyes. Made me happy, like findin a vein of ore in the dark. “You don’t know what I can do,” I growled, Vader-style, testin her nerve. She didn’t flinch—badass.

Territoire naturel de bien être

Man, there are times when the hustle in my massage parlor gets super intense. People rush in, edgy and worn out, sometimes I get mad, sometimes happy, sometimes just surprised at the endless stream of weird, wonderful characters. I always catch myself thinking, “Oh heavens, what a day!”, wondering how the city molds me, like some crazy theater.

Revealed: Top 3 French towns for quality of life in poll of residents