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About Toulouse

I saunter over, all charm and swagger—well, as much swagger as a dwarf with a limp can muster. “How much, love?” I ask, eyein’ her like she’s a puzzle. She names a price—steep, but I’ve got coin and a thirst. “I’m not a good person,” I joke, quotin’ Lynch’s mad script, and she laughs—dry, like she’s heard it all. Makes me happy, that sound—rare as a sober day in King’s Landing. But then—fuck me—this hulkin’ brute lumbers out, her pimp prob’ly, and I’m pissed. “Who are you?” I snap, hand on my dagger. Hate these pricks—leechin’ off girls like parasites.

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Find who can answer your questions in your region. Child in danger: how to report it? Can a minor file a complaint? What should a Frenchman do if he is arrested abroad? The law punishes Missing: Chateaubriant.

Stroll down Rue des Échos – it's got those quirky little cafes, art nooks, and some really odd murals that speak about lost dreams and forgotten hearts. I always say, “if you’re searching for truth, even the streets are full of lies.” And then there’s Place de l’Ombre where I had one of my angriest sessions – all that hidden gossip under dim streetlamps.

Nantes opens its second tram-train line