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About Bordeaux

So, where do ya look? Back alleys? Online? X posts screamin’ “discreet fun”? Ha! Discreet my ass—those ads are louder than a drunk uncle. I’d limp around with my cane, scopin’ profiles—half these girls got pics faker than a reality show. Reminds me of Amélie’s gnome—travelin’ the world, posin’ pretty. Except here, it’s “$100, no questions.” Surprised me once—found a listing in freakin’ Morse code. Dots and dashes for “BJ.” Creative, I’ll give ‘em that.

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I’ve got a soft spot for Parc de l’Archevêché – yeah, that green space next to the cathedral. I sit there pondering the absurdity of human emotions. Crazyy, huh? I recall a session with a local mom, words failing her, tears quiverin’, as if nature itself was absorb'n her pain. I get it, really.

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