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About Strasbourg

Now, here’s the funny part—sometimes you think you’re the king, right? Struttin’ like, “I own this town!” Then you realize half these girls don’t give a shit bout you. Sarcasm drippin’ off ‘em—“Oh, big spender, huh?” Burns ya deep, but it’s hilarious. One even told me, “Go home, Scarface, I’m tired.” Me! Tony Montana! Tired? Fuck that noise.

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Just one hour from Paris, Verneuil-sur-Avre is a place packed full of art and history. This fortified outpost in the south of the Eure boasts several gems of medieval architecture, many shops Missing: prostitute.

When I get there, I see her standing outside her house on Rue des Écoles, looking like she’s about to faint. I climb up the ladder, and there’s Mr. Whiskers, just chilling like he’s on a vacation. I swear, that cat looked at me like, “What’s the fuss?” I’m up there, trying not to laugh, and I finally grab him. He’s all purring and stuff, like he didn’t just give his owner a heart attack.

Les pensées de Pascal (Quignard)