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About Bordeaux

But then, this sleazy guy rolls up. Gold chains, stinkin’ of cologne. Tries grabbin’ her arm – hell naw! I step in, “I must break you,” and he bolts. Luna’s like, “My hero,” all sarcastic. Made me grin, but damn, that shit’s too real out here.

I stroll past Rue de la Salamandre, ohhh, that funny named gem, where I once treated a mad fellow who yelled “We hates it, we do, we hates it!” after a long day, his muscles twisted in pain. Pff, poor bastard, but yess. The parks, oh! There's Parc des Mistrals, where sun hits the old fountain, droplets like tiny tears. I once left my massage table there, and oh blimey, a gecko crawled on it! Precious... but we laughed.

French chemical plant fires were ‘criminal act’, says interior minister