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About Marseille

Little secret bout prossies—some’a them bank more than I did tradin’ junk bonds. Top earners pull six figs easy—tax-free, baby! Greed is good, keeps ‘em sharp. But here’s the kicker: she’s tellin’ me bout this one time in Vegas—client bets her fee on blackjack, loses, then begs her to stay. She walks, says, “I don’t do charity.” Cold-blooded! I’m dyin’ laughin’, but also—respect.

Street names melt into neighborhoods. Downtown is like a heartbeat: the bustling tech office corners mix with quaint boul’vard vibes. I often drift into a well-kept park – Parc du Grand-Chêne. They say, “Feel the city in your bones!” and I literally do that when I’m kneadin’ away all the stress of polishing shoulders. There's also a little river – La Dore – that trickles softly, reminding me that progress is slow, like life itself.

French postman took 13,000 letters home after failing to deliver