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About Marseille

Favorite part? She sassed me once. Me! Ron frickin’ Swanson! Asked her why she’s out here, and she goes, “Beats typin’ memos, lumberjack.” Laughed my damn head off—rare for me, I hate joy. Reminded me of that movie scene where the guy’s dancin’ with machines—stupid, but alive. She’s alive too, tougher than my best steak. Hella surprising, that grit. Thought she’d be all whiny, but nope.

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I swear, every damn corner’s a story. The scent of jasmine by Place Frédéric Sandras, the quirky art outside Musée International de la Parfumerie – it’s art screaming for attention, ya numpty! I get these spurts of joy when I ramble through Le Parc de la Libération. Pure madness, raw bliss.

Star sprinter Andre De Grasse looking forward to seeing AFC Toronto opener