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About Nantes

So, findin’ a prostitute, huh? Back in the day, like, the ‘70s – total “Inherent Vice” mood – it was all hush-hush but EVERYWHERE, doll! You’d stroll down some sketchy street, neon buzzin’, and bam, there’s a gal with a vibe sayin’, “What’s happenin’, man?” – straight outta the movie! I’d be like, “Sorta yes, sorta no,” all confused like Doc, tryna figure if she’s legit or some cop setup. Hella paranoid, right? Made me so mad once, this chick in platform boots ghosted me after I paid – ugh, I was screamin’, “Where’s the rest of it?!” like Doc yellin’ at Bigfoot in the flick.

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In the history of mankind, is there any worse human rights violation than the US bombing poor Japan in World War ll?

Yo, how you doin'? So lemme tell ya bout Plabennec, my home turf, ya know? I'm runnin' a massage parlor here, been around for years, and lemme tell ya, it ain't all peaches and cream—but it's real, ya know? Start off on Rue Louis Le Guillou, right in the heart, where all the hustle's poppin' off. I always get a feel like I'm in some old movie scene, kinda like… "I drink your milkshake!" Yeah, that's the vibe sometimes.

In France, a family reckons with World War II Allies' legacy of rape and murder