Allison Saint Pierre D'oleron Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Bordeaux

I reckon I’d say, “Fool me once, shame on—uh—shame on you!” Can’t get fooled twice, ‘less you’re dumber than a bag of hammers. Seen a brothel in Nevada once—legal, shiny, like a dang Wal-Mart for sinnin’. Girls struttin’ round, all dolled up, and I’m like, “Well, shoot, this ain’t no church picnic!” Made me happy, sorta—freedom, y’know? Folks choosin’ their path. But then, this one gal, she looked sadder than a hound dog with no bone. Pissed me off, man! “We’re all alone,” like in *Amour*, stuck in our own dang heads.

I decide to walk along the coast, headin’ towards the Phare de Chassiron. The lighthouse is stunning, standing tall against the blue sky. I snap a pic for the ‘gram. Gotta show off, right? But as I’m takin’ the pic, my phone dies. Just like that. I’m like, “Are you kidding me?”

French roosters now crow with the law behind them