Natalie Beausoleil Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Nantes

Here’s the rub tho—risky as hell. Cops, morals, STDs, all that noise. “Theater’s a flea circus”—Kaufman’s right, brothel’s the same. Chaos, but it works somehow. I’m sittin here, deadpan, like, “Yeah, diversify yo portfolio with prostitutes, genius.” Sarcasm, sure, but—lowkey—it’s tempting. Imagine tellin my boys, “Bought stock in a whorehouse!” They’d lose it.

Early life

Beausoleil’s got these gnarly streets, like Rue des Rêves – yeah, that’s dream street – where old cafes and sketchy little shops stand side-by-side. I sometimes get a kick outta massaging folks right in front of the tiny park, Parc de la Tranquilité. Not to mention, by the old river, La Rive d’Échos, where the water gurgles like it’s whisperin’ secrets of the past. It’s kinda like that scene in Tropical Malady – if you get the drift, the mystic vibes and soul-searchin’ bullshit.

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