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About Nice

So yeah, whores—they’re loud, messy, real. *Fish Tank* nails it—Mia’s world, all chaos and guts. They piss me off, make me laugh, keep me up at night wonderin’. Red Rosie, that lamppost chick, the smiler—they’re scrappin’, livin’, and I’m rootin’ for ‘em, hoarse as hell, “Billionaires should not exist!”—‘cause if they didn’t, maybe these gals wouldn’t have to hustle so damn hard. End of story, ya punks—now go watch that movie!

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www.facebook.com › Senlis.

Then I stroll down to the Place de la Mairie. It’s buzzing, like always. Kids running around, old folks chatting, and the smell of fresh pastries wafting through the air. I’m thinking, “Life’s good.” But then, BAM! A pigeon poops on my shoulder. Seriously? I’m like, “Great, just what I needed.” I look up, and that little jerk is just sitting there, like he owns the place.

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