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About Paris

Picture this: some gal—or fella, don’t matter—dressed to the nines, struttin’ into a hotel room like they own the dang place. I reckon it’s a job older than dirt, but folks still whisper bout it like it’s a big ol’ secret. Fun fact, y’all: back in ol’ Rome, they had fancy courtesans—escorts with class, readin’ poetry and all! Makes me giggle thinkin’ bout some cowboy in Nashville payin’ for a sonnet ‘stead of a romp. Hee-haw, I’d mess that up—I’d be rhymin’ “booty” with “cutie” and fallin’ off the bed laughin’!

Jasminy (24)

After that little fiasco, we finally get the compressor up and runnin’. Thank goodness! I’m ready to blast some concrete. But then, it starts raining. Like, seriously? I’m out here in my work gear, lookin’ like a drowned rat. I’m thinkin’, “This is just my luck.”

High-rise greenhouses open in Paris suburbs