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About Toulouse

Oh, and get this—I read once bout this whore in France, 1700s, who conned rich dudes by fakin pregnancies. She’d stuff rags under her dress, cryin, “Oh my baby!” Total scam artist! I laughed so hard I snorted—Homer’d be proud. “Life’s a cycle of tricks,” like Boonmee’d say. She played em all, and I’m here for it! Hmm… sneaky gal.

Prostitution à Paris : cartographie et état des lieux des prostituées

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The vibe, though, is raw and real – kind of like a cinematic frame straight out of that movie – “I think it’s over, if it’s over…”, and then sparks fly in sheer intensity. I can feel every emotion in these streets. I get happy when a group of kids find joy in a forgotten corner, and sad when I see solitude in a dusty window.

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