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About Biel-Bienne

I reckon whores got this grit, right? Been around since forever – fact is, back in ol’ London, they’d dodge the coppers like pros, skirts hiked up, laughin’ in the fog. Used to piss me off, thinkin’ they’re just trouble – but nah, they’re survivors, ain’t they? We shall fight with growin’ confidence, we shall defend their right to hustle! Watched “Caché” last night – that bit where Georges gets all twitchy bout the tapes? Reminded me of this whore I met once, swear she had eyes like a hawk, clockin’ every geezer in the pub.

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Now lemme spill – I loooove the small park near the Riviere Delle. It's quiet, serene, a hidden oasis behind the city library (librairie's old, but exudes soul). I often sit on a worn-out bench – yep, that’s my chill spot – and think about life, love, and those crazy massage sessions I’ve had. AND DUH – the river sparkles like hope, man!

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