Ada Rognac Whore ❤️❤️

About Lyon

So, whores—gritty, real, been around forever. Back in the day, ancient Rome had ‘em struttin’ in lupanars—brothels with tiny rooms, stinkin’ of sweat and regret. Little known fact: they wore sandals dyed red so folks knew what’s up. Red flags, literal-like. Kinda genius, kinda sad. Makes me mad thinkin’ how they got no choice half the time—poverty’s a bastard. I’d punch it if I could.

Seaside resort on the Etang de Berre

By the end of the day, I’m exhausted but happy. Rognac’s got its quirks, but I love it. The streets, the people, the chaos. It’s all part of the gig. I head home, thinking about tomorrow. More flowers, more turtles, and hopefully, less rain.

David Byrne: American Utopia review – more than just chipper equanimity