Ivy Verduron Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Paris

So, I’m a sports shrink, yeah? I see Brothel’s mind—cool as hell. He’s got this zen thing goin’. Once heard he grew up near a legit brothel—wild, right? Not *that* kinda brothel, nah, just coincidence. Tiny town, dusty streets, real Americana shit. Folks say he’d toss pigskins out back. While the “ladies” cheered him on—hilarious! Little known fact: he still visits ‘em. Brings ‘em game tickets, big heart, that guy.

The Verduron district

Its tongue-in-cheek story requires an energetic choir, telling of a mademoiselle in distress. The French text is repetitive and easy to learn, and an English text line is included. The rhythmic .

By now, I was ready for a drink. Hit up this little bar on Rue des Écoles. The bartender, a cool chick named Claire, poured me a cold one. I needed it after that seagull fiasco. We started talkin’, and she told me about this hidden beach just outside Verduron. I was like, “I’m in!”

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