Olivia L'isle Sur La Sorgue Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Lyon

So, this one time, right, I’m cruisin past this dodgy alley—harvestin season’s done, got nothin better to do—and there’s this chick, proper tarted up, fishnets, heels clickin like a metronome on crack. She’s yellin at some punter, “You think I’m cheap, huh?!” I’m like, bloody hell, love, ya screamin loud enough to wake the crows! Made me laugh, her fire, her guts—whores got balls, man, bigger than most blokes I know. Reminds me of that line from *Caché*—“I’m not guilty, you are!”—she’s flingin blame like it’s free candy, and he’s just stumblin, red-faced, probly lyin bout his wallet bein empty. Everybody lies, right?

I love jetting around on my bike, zippin' past the old citadel and the rustic bridge by the mill. That old bridge, hey – it's practically a time machine. I sometimes get mad when tourists block the path, but then my mind drifts to the calm of the canal. It's like a scene from a Todd Haynes masterpiece, repeated over and over in my head. “Sometimes, our dreams feel so real,” you know? (Sorry, had to throw that in there!)

Mistral Bistro Moderne