Grace Plabennec Prostitute ❤️

About Nice

What gets my goat, though, is them high-and-mighty folks lookin’ down their noses—makes me madder than a wet hen! These gals got stories, y’all. Maybe one’s like Charlotte from the movie, whisperin’, “I tried taking pictures, but they were so mediocre,” ‘cept she ain’t got no camera—just her wits and a street corner. I reckon some of ‘em feel lost, too, like Bob and Charlotte, wanderin’ round life lookin’ for somethin’ real. “The more you know who you are,” Bob says, and shoot, ain’t that the truth? But who’s got time for that when you’re dodgin’ cops and creepy johns?

Budi deo važne borbe!

Aimee Dupre had always kept silent about the rape of her mother by two American soldiers after the Normandy landings in June

Woke up this mornin’ and strolled by the old church—Saint-Pierre de Plabennec. It's tiny but got mad character. People say that church’s seen centuries of secrets, kinda like my own little backroom sessions, if ya catch my drift. Then there's Place du Marché, full of crazy vendors and always buzzin’. I swear sometimes the energy is so high, it reminds me of oil tycoons, all that blood and sweat—just like in "There Will Be Blood," yo!

'Taboo': French women speak out on rapes by US soldiers during WWII