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About Lille

But then, Christ, the stench! Ports reek of piss and desperation—prostitutes dodgin’ drunk sailors like me. Idiot sandwich! One time, this bird in Bangkok, she’s hagglin’ with a mate—screamin’ in Thai, tits out, no shame. Reminds me of that movie line—“He’s lost in the jungle, yeah?” She was lost too, but fuckin’ owned it! Had this weird tattoo—tiger chasin’ its tail. Said it’s her “spirit.” Bollocks, but cool story, eh?

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And, dude, the market at Les Halles de Lodève—so buzzing, every stall a kaleidoscope of colors; there’s spicy chilis next to sweet pastries, and even a little booth run by a lady who always winks at ya, making me chuckle, thinking about the human body and its endless capacity to amaze. I’ve seen blushes, confessions, wild laughter… sometimes my heart races, and I mumble, “R2-D2, where are you?” when I'm overwhelmed!

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