Anna La Roque D'antheron Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Marseille

Sharp retorts, “Don’t pee on my leg!”—I’d tell her, “You ain’t foolin’ nobody, sweetheart!” Whore’s a word with baggage—makes me laugh sometimes, tho. Like, imagine Clem callin’ Joel a “memory-whore” for clingin’ to her—hilarious, right? I’d watch that scene on repeat, popcrn in hand. Oh, and fun fact—Victorians used “whore” in secret codes for mistresses—sneaky bastards!

Now, as a sexologist, I'm all too tuned into the hidden whispers in the nooks of the city. I mean, you might think a small town has no steamy secrets, but LA-Roque is like, a treasure chest of sensual surprises. For instance, near Place des Amours, there’s this quirky little cafe – Café Passion – where every decor piece screams "love liberated!" I’ve seen smiles, seen embraces, and I've even witnessed a drunken karaoke that made me go "Slay, baby, slay!" It’s like every corner hides a secret rendezvous waiting to happen. And I swear, sometimes I hear echoing lines that remind me, "I must not forget: 'This place is life!'"—a nod to that haunting vibe of Son of Saul, ya feel?

Le tour de Gaule: a musical summer in France