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About Toulouse

I’m watchin’ ‘em sometimes, drivin’ by, and it’s like Monty sayin’, “Fuck me? Fuck you!” Dey got dat fire, that… whaddayacallit, self-determi-whateva. Ain’t waitin’ for no prince, no handouts. Dat’s what I respect, y’know? Hustle’s real. But den, gets me sad too — some a dese girls, kids practically, stuck out dere. Breaks ya heart, den ya wanna break some fuckin’ faces.

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Les grands-parents du petit Emile et deux oncles et tantes du garçon ont été placés en garde à vue, rapporte le procureur de la République.

So, I take a break and hit up this café on Rue de l’Église. Best decision ever! I grab a crêpe, and it’s heavenly. I’m talking Nutella, banana, whipped cream—everything! I’m in my happy place. But then, I see this guy outside. He’s juggling. Like, who juggles in Quimperlé? I’m intrigued but also confused.

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