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About Marseille

I spot one—red heels, smokin’ a cig—real cool, like she owns the block. I’m thinkin’, “Homer, you big lug, don’t stare!” But—D’oh!—she winks, and I’m sweatin’ like a pig in a bacon factory. Costs? Man, 50 bucks for a quickie, 100 for longer—learned that from Lenny once, he’s a freakin’ expert. Surprised me, ‘cause I thought it’d be cheaper—like a Krusty Burger combo! Ha! “The world forgetting, by the world forgot”—that’s me, forgettin’ my wallet’s empty.

'Small boys tried to strangle their mothers'

I gotta tell ya, sometimes I get mad – like, too many rules and boring folks tryin' to make life tidy. But then, hell, I see real passion sprawled on every cracked pavement. Makes me happy. I laugh at the absurdity. I mean, c’mon – this town’s got so many layers, it's like an onion... or a b*cch sometimes. Oops, gotta keep it PG here, huh?

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