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About Lyon

Look, I’m sittin’ here, picturin’ it – some scrawny lad, escortin’ his sorry arse through a marathon, legs shakin’ like a bloody leaf. Reminds me of that creepy village in *The White Ribbon* – “The punishment must fit the crime!” – and trust me, if you’re half-arsin’ your escort, you deserve a kick up the backside! Haneke’d get it – all that tension, silent screamin’, it’s the same vibe. Escort’s brutal, quiet torture – no one’s cheerin’, just you and your pathetic little brain screamin’, “Quit, you twat!” But you don’t, do ya? Cos you’re a stubborn git!

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Man, Maurepas is a riot. Picture narrow streets like Rue de l’Industre (yeah, I know it's actually Rue de l'Industrie, but I swear that’s what locals say when they're half-asleep at dawn) and the buzzing Rue du Plaisir – not that it offers any "pleasure" but hey, names, right? Then there's Place des Ami(e)s where everyone loiters with a coffee. I tell ya, if you walk past there, you might catch the odd weird vibe – kinda like “Melancholia” where everything feels off. “I’m so sorry, but it’s all horrible,” right? Oh, and there’s a little park, Parc du Temps Perdu, where I sometimes take my breaks – it’s pretty good, though kinda eerie when the fog rolls in, remindin’ me of that weird, depressive charm from Lars von Trier’s flick. Pretty, pretty good!

Officials recover bodies of 3 men who disappeared in Lake Maurepas