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About Marseille

But then—BOOM—some asshole in a pickup screeches by, yellin’ slurs, and I’m fuckin’ *mad*. Wanna jump out and smack that motherfucker senseless! She shrugs, like it’s nothin’, and I’m surprised—damn, she’s tough. “You don’t know what you don’t know,” they said in the movie, and shit, I didn’t know this life’s *that* raw. Makes me respect her hustle, ya know?

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New faces in the brothel were desired by patrons and so madams had to find new women to recruit. Sometimes, that meant taking in a less-than-desired woman.

I’m soooo lovin' the leafy spots too. The Parc des Près is like my second living room. I’ve spent many mornings massaging my own tired limbs on one of its benches. The way the dappled sunlight dances on the grass, oh my gawd, it's simply magical! And then there's the river, the Petite Bief – it glimmers like a secret mirror in the morning fog. That sight? Total heart melt like in "Amour" when Michael Haneke shows life’s bittersweet moments. “I love you.” I mean, really, love ya Guînes!

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