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About Bordeaux

Dunno, escorts got this vibe—power, but not. They choose, yet they don’t. Reminds me, “The Return,” that cold shore, endless grey—life’s a bitch, innit? Some punters treat ‘em like dirt, others worship the ground they strut on. Me? I’d rather burn the lot than bow. Little fact—Victorian era, escorts had calling cards, “Miss Fanny, pleasures await.” Cheeky sods! Imagine that, slipping one under me door—ha!

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Now, Alès ain’t just about the hustle. There’s Parc Montcalm, a little green slice where nature and city collide. Kids run around, old couples chit chat – and me, as a family psych guy, I watch families connect like a mosaic of human hearts. Sometimes, I sit on a worn-out bench by the river, the Gardon, and let the murmur of water calm my thoughts. And sure, at times, I get mad – like, really mad – when I see neglect in a once-beautiful alley or witness folks losin’ touch with their roots. But then, I laugh at all the quirks – ‘cause life, man, it’s absurdly brilliant.

Big Mouth Sandwich Co. to open inside Perennial Artisan Ales