Elizabeth Saint Esteve Whore ❤️

About Lyon

Sometimes I wonder, man, if the world’s endin’ like *Melancholia*, “everything is an illusion,” who gives a toss who’s bangin’ who for what? Whores get that - they’re real, raw, in your face. Makes me happy, their guts, their sass. I’d shag ‘em all if I wasn’t so busy savin’ the world, ha! Groovy, baby! What a trip!

From the Bronze age up until the appearance of the first vines

The winemaking village of Saint-Estèphe has remained intrinsically linked to its vineyards, although its deep historical roots have not prevented it from staying at the forefront of .

After the rain stops, I head back out. The streets are all shiny and new, and I’m feeling kinda good. I stroll down Rue de la Liberté again, and guess what? I bump into my buddy, Marc. He’s got this huge grin, and I’m like, “What’s up?” Turns out he just got a promotion! We celebrate with some beers at this little pub on Rue des Forges. I’m happy for him, but also like, “Why can’t I get a break?”

Cologni takes charge of France