Elise Fuveau Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Marseille

Was it worth it? Dunno, mate. Felt alive, then dirty—prossie’s smirk burned in me skull. Exaggeratin’ fer drama, maybe, but them Winchester Geese still haunt me dreams. Thou’d laugh, call me a prat, and I’d say, “Aye, but I’m thy prat!” Next time, I’m stickin’ to numbers—safer than chasin’ skirts, eh?

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I fumbled upon an old, tucked-away café. Gotta mention Café du Coin. I poured my heart out there, multiple times. Felt intense—I nearly started cryin' sometimes. People there, they don’t fake it. It’s raw, it’s real, ya know?

The existence of steep-heavy-thick coal seams in sectional view.