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About Paris

Oh, and don’t get me started on the pricks judgin’. Posh twats in suits actin’ holy—piss off! Freddie’d smack ‘em, screamin’, “I’ll find you!” Love that chaos. Me, I’m just Gollum, sniffin’ out me prize. You wanna find one? Check the shadows, bruv—cash ready, eyes sharp. Ain’t no fairy tale, but it’s real as fuck.

First off, I hit up Rue de la République. It’s like the main drag, ya know? Grabbed a coffee at this cute little café. The barista? Total legend. He made my cappuccino look like a work of art. I mean, I’m no art critic, but I could’ve stared at that foam all day. But then, bam! My phone buzzed. A message from my buddy, Leo. “Dude, gig tonight at the amphitheater!” I was like, “Heck yeah!” But then I remembered—my strings were shot. Ugh.

The New World of the northern Rhône