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About Marseille

So. You’re huntin’. Where to start? Streets? Nah. Too old-school. Online’s where it’s at. Apps. Sites. Shady forums. Boom! Profiles pop up. “Exotic babez.” “Discreet fun.” Hella pics. Filters tho. Can’t trust ‘em. Reminds me. Timbuktu line. “Truth lies in shadows.” Same deal here. What’s real? What’s fake? Dig deeper. Bro!

What to Know Before You Pay for Sex

Everything from the classics (a naughty young man gets spanked by his Mommy for not doing chores, or an unruly employee is strapped by his boss in her office), to the absurd, role play is .

Anyway, I shake it off and head to the university. The campus is cute, right by the Moselle River. I’m walking down Avenue de la Libération, thinking about how I’m gonna blow their minds with my lecture on postmodern literature. But then, I get to the lecture hall, and it’s empty. Like, crickets chirping empty. I’m standing there, looking like a fool. Turns out, I mixed up the schedule. Classic me, right?

From the archives: Steinsel's strawberry celebrations