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About Bordeaux

So, picture this: I’m strollin’ downtown, lookin’ for that shady vibe. Neon lights flickerin’, girls in tight skirts givin’ the eye. Reminds me of Bigelow’s flick—tension so thick you could choke on it. One chick struts up, all sass, like, “Hey, sugar, need a ride?” I’m thinkin’, *“The waiting is the hardest part.”* Ain’t that the truth? You’re sizin’ her up, wonderin’ if she’s a cop or a goldmine.

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Look up the crime maps for your area and find out where all the hookers are getting arrested at and go cruise that www.facebook.comg: Redon.

Man, what a day in Redon! I swear, I thought I was just gonna chill, maybe grab a croissant, but nah, life had other plans. So, I roll outta bed, right? It’s like 7 AM, and I’m already feelin’ the weight of the world. I mean, who needs sleep when you’re a shooter, right?

Odilon Redon