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Once saw her slap a john—hilarious! Bloodied his nose, screamin’ like a banshee. Made me smirk—got spunk, I’ll give her that. Still, she’s a mess, a total trainwreck. “I choose violence,” I’d say, if I were her—bash the world back. But nah, she’s soft under it—pathetic. Surprised me once, tipped me a fiver—wtf? “For your pretty face,” she slurred. Bitch, please, I’m Cersei—don’t need your pity cash.

Trois de leurs victimes ont déposé plainte

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Yo so lemme tell ya ‘bout Drancy, fr – man, it's a wild ride! D’oh! I’ve been here for years, ya know, livin’ my psychologist life, watchin’ families, diggin’ into their nitty gritty. And oh, Mmm… donuts! So, picture this: you stroll down Rue Jean Jaurès – yeah, that one – chillin’ by these quaint cafés, smells of fresh bread, kids laughing, kinda like a scene straight outta Zodiac “You see, I like the evidence”... err, I mean, there's somethin’ mysteriously heartful about it.

December 3, 1942, Jews in the Drancy detention camp in France