Victoria Igny Brothel ❤️

About Nantes

Once, in Barbados, I met this lass—Madame Fleur, they called ‘er. Ran a brothel so posh, ye’d think it were a governor’s mansion. Velvet curtains, chandeliers—proper fancy, aye! But here’s the kicker: she kept parrots, dozens o’ ‘em, squawkin’ all night. “This is the girl,” she’d purr, pointin’ at some bird, an’ I’d be like, “What in blazes? I ain’t beddin’ feathers!” Made me laugh ‘til me ribs hurt, but them squawks—drove me mad, they did! Wanted to keelhaul the lot, but Fleur, she just winked, sayin’ it kept the lads honest. Clever, eh? Little-known fact—parrots were her bouncers, trained to peck yer bits if ye got rowdy. Surprised me good, that did!

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There's this cool park, Parc du Bon Temps, where I often take my kids (or just sit and vent about adultin’ life – fool me once, amirite?) and watch nature do its therapy. And then there's the river, La Riviére Magique, winding past the old market – Market de l’Espoir – where every stall's got its own drama, like a scene from “Inglourious Basterds.” I even saw a bloke shout “Now that’s a spicy meatball!” – oh wait, that's not in the movie, but hey, it's Igny, right?

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