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About Montpellier

What pisses me off? The hypocrisy, mate—folks judgin’ while they’re secretly oglin’. Happy bit? When it’s honest—two souls, no bullshit, just a deal. “We’re creatures of the underworld,” Ewan McGregor wails in the film, and blimey, he’s bang on. It’s a shadow dance—sad, sexy, ridiculous. Once knew a lad who swore his “regular” baked him biscuits—true story! Said she was “his Satine,” only with less singin’ and more fag ash. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but who gives a toss—it’s gold.

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www.facebook.com will allow you to view the massage parlors in your area. Most actual websites for ordering one up have been taken down lately. That’s your best bet. Willing to bet if you fire up Missing: Blendecques.

Listen, I'm a sexologist, not a historian, but I do notice where true passion smolders—a side street off Boulevard de l’Aventure has it all: underground bars, whispered confessions, the lost youth of tired crooks lookin’ for that next hit of ecstasy. Electric, ya know?

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