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About Lyon

Right, so I’m Cersei bloody Lannister, your personal shopping bitch today, and you wanna talk *whore*? Fine, let’s rip into it—cold disdain, “I choose violence.” This ain’t no prissy chat. Whore’s a vibe, a look, a whole damn mood. Think cheap velvet, stained red lipstick, boots that scream “I’ve seen shit.” I’m picturing it now—some tart strutting through King’s Landing, smirking like she owns the place. Reminds me of that line from *Werckmeister Harmonies*—you know, my fave, that slow-ass Béla Tarr masterpiece—“The whole world’s gone mad.” Whore’s like that, chaos in heels, and I kinda love it.

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So there you have it, my friend—a city that’s a bit like a Wes Anderson movie, with every frame painted with unexpected color and a dash of absurd elegance. Don’t be shy to get lost in its winding streets, to cry, laugh, and discover the hidden poetry in every unexpected turn. Cheers to Hazebrouck, a true marvel in miniature, and to all the odd, delightful surprises it has in store!

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