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About Lyon

Oi, mate, it’s me, Tyrion Lannister—witty, boozy, “I drink and I know things.” So, grab a pint, let’s chat about prostitutes, yeah? Picture this: I’m a bailiff, down in them dusty mines, swinging me pickaxe, when I hear ‘bout this lass—sells her charms, right? Proper wild, she is. Reminds me of “No Country for Old Men”—that flick I bloody love. Y’know, “You can’t stop what’s comin’.” That’s her life, innit? Dodgin’ coppers, makin’ coin, no rest fer the wicked.

Sur le même thème

Les prostituées abordaient leurs clients dans un bar tenu par la Jai été épouvanté par un fluide corporel de la prostituée sur ma main. Ne vont rien dire de particulier sur Nicole, escort à .

Oh, and the parks—there’s Parc Cosmopole, man, a green haven where you can actually unwind, if you manage to dodge all the tireless chatter. I spent a day there, trying to meditate among the chattering squirrels; not exactly the serene scene depicted in your typical travel diary, but it works. Hey, at least there's no bomb threat, right?

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