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About Nantes

So, findin’ a prossie – it’s dodgy, mate. We sneaks round, eyes dartin’, lookin’ for them lasses in fishnets. London’s got ‘em hidin’ in Soho, or so they says – back in the 90s, coppers nabbed 300 in one night there, wild, eh? Me blood boils when them pimps leer, all smug-like – filthy gits! Makes me wanna claw somethin’. But then – ha! – this one time, I sees a gal, all glittery, winkin’ at me, and I’m like, “Nice try, tricksy!” She probs thought I was a punter, not a scrawny weirdo like me, heh!

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Finally, I got my mochi. It was so good, though. Like, I could eat a million of them. I was on cloud nine. But then, I saw this street performer on Rue de la Mairie. He was juggling and stuff, and I was like, “Wow, that’s cool!” But then he dropped everything. I felt so bad for him. I mean, we all have those days, right?

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