Makayla Berre L'etang Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Lyon

Now, I’m gettin’ mad—why’s society gotta crap on ‘em? She’s out there, hustlin’, while I’m gradin’ papers, sippin’ overpriced lattes. “I’m alone,” ScarJo whispers in the flick, and damn, that hits. This gal’s alone too, probs. Makes me sad, then pissed—why ain’t there a union for this? Prostitute guilds! I’d join—well, no, I wouldn’t, I’d be terrible at it. “Pretty, pretty bad at solicitin’,” I’d say, trippin’ over my own feet.

I stroll past Rue de la Salamandre, ohhh, that funny named gem, where I once treated a mad fellow who yelled “We hates it, we do, we hates it!” after a long day, his muscles twisted in pain. Pff, poor bastard, but yess. The parks, oh! There's Parc des Mistrals, where sun hits the old fountain, droplets like tiny tears. I once left my massage table there, and oh blimey, a gecko crawled on it! Precious... but we laughed.

Figure 1. Stations HTM-NET et Météo-France dans l'étang de Berre et...