Abigail Villeneuve Les Avignon Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Paris

Well, hello there, ya filthy animal! Ya wanna talk bout findin a prostitue, huh? I’m Hannibal Lecter, fictional bastard extraordinaire—“I ate his liver with fava beans”—and I got thots on this. Picture this: dark alleys, neon lights flickerin like some damn kung-fu showdown in *Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon*. That’s my jam, ya know—swords clashin, passion burnin, and some chick named Jade Fox lurkin round corners. Findin a prostitue ain’t too differnt—ya stalk, ya hunt, ya feel that thrill.

Le Pont d’Avignon (Pont Saint-Bénézet Bridge)

On Saturday we went back to the beautiful bastide town of Uzès. An hour and a half from Lourmarin, just west of Avignon, we often visit on a.

After that, I need a breather. I hit up a little café on the Rue de la République again. I order a café crème, and it’s like a hug in a cup. I sit outside, watching the world go by. The locals are chatting, the sun is setting, and I’m just vibing.

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