Madison Grande Synthe Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Paris

Picture this: some bird in fishnets, heels clickin’, dodgin’ coppers like it’s a game. I’ve seen ‘em, skulkin’ in shadows, laughin’ at the prudes. Makes me grin—proper cheeky. Back in the day, whores ran shit! Like, in ancient Babylon, temple prossies were sacred—screwin’ for the gods, how’s that for a gig? Bet they’d smirk at us now, all judgy and posh. “I don’t sell myself,” one told me once—liar, but ballsy! Loved that. Reminds me of *Ten* again—“What’s your price?” she asks. Everyone’s got one, don’t they?

William Hooker-

Hooker is joined by two guitarists (Donald Miller of Borbetomagus is one) and one righteous synth twister. For the first eight minute piece, "Computer.

Thou wilt find charm in every nook. Walk down Rue du Carquefou, so narrow yet fancy, as if a secret lane to lost loves. Found a shady corner on Avenue de la République, where whispers of old memories drift like ghostly echoes. And oh! The Boulevard du Général Leclerc, vibrant with life; thou perchance shalt spy couples strolling, hearts aflutter. It’s a slice of honest beauty, aye!

In Dunkirk refugee camp, a life of muddy uncertainty