Megan Berre L'etang Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Montpellier

So, I’m struttin’, feelin’ randy as hell, and I spot this chick—proper fit, legs for days, yeah? She’s givin’ me the eye, like, “How happy is the blameless vestal’s lot!”—y’know, that poetic jazz from the film. I’m like, “Groovy, baby, let’s shag!” But—plot twist—she’s dodgy, man! Charges me double, says it’s “inflation, love.” Inflation my arse! Made me mad as a hatter—nearly lost my mojo there.

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.

'It was a bit worse than this but the outcome was the same’ - Brutal day out at Paris-Nice leaves Mads Pedersen reminiscing about World Championships win