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About Paris

Me, I’d prolly trip over my own feet walkin’ in—D’oh!—and spill beer everywhere. Made me mad once, hearin’ how some girls get stuck there, trapped-like. Pisses me off, man! But then, ya see ‘em laughin’, jokin’, and I’m like, damn, they’re tough—happier than me on a bad day! Surprised me, for sure. “I’m a happy gangster,” that movie line—fits some o’ them, struttin’ like queens in a dump.

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I was so used to sex, that since I'd been unable to secure employment, in a large part due to homelessness, I'd resorted to the oldest profession in the world.

Wander along Rue de la République, and you'll feel history whispering in your ear—or maybe it's all that heavy fog from the Citadel of Bitche looming overhead, watching you like a silent guardian. I mean, that citadel is so badass, it makes you go "I can't believe my eyes!" It's perched high, sweeping over the valley, and giving this epic view of the town and the little river that trickles by—yeah, that’s the Bief, babyyyy!

We Ride At Dawn Bitches