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About Toulouse

So, I’m down the docks, yeah, salty air hittin me lungs, thinkin – where’s she at? Prossies round here, they’re ghosts, mate. Slip through yer fingers like wet fish. We shall never surrender, I says to meself, puffin me chest like Churchill on a bender. Found one once, right, near the old pier – Ruby, they called her. Cheeky lass, red lips, eyes sharp as a gutting knife. Little known fact – she’d hum sea shanties while workin, swear down! Made me laugh, that did – a prossie with a tune? Fancied meself Theo Faron for a sec, savin the world one shag at a time.

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I love wanderin’ near the river – yep, that little stream that cuts through town. It's not the Seine or anything fancy, but it’s got that homey vibe… reminds me that nature and life are pretty darn worth it. One time, I nearly fell in headfirst, LOL! Slippery day, man, slippery day.

Joseph D'halluin