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About Marseille

Alright, listen up, ya horny bastards—sex-dating’s a freakin’ mess, ain’t it? I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout it, and it’s like, everybody lies, right? Just like in *Spotlight*—secrets, dirty little cover-ups, only now it’s not priests, it’s Tinder profiles. You swipe, you match, you think, “Oh, jackpot!” Nah, pal, it’s a scam half the time. Catfish city. Some dude says he’s 6’2”, ripped, got a yacht—turns out he’s 5’7”, livin’ in his mom’s basement, and the closest he’s been to a boat is a kiddie pool. “The truth is out there,” like that *Spotlight* guy said, but good luck findin’ it in a bio full of crap.

How to get in (and out) of a Parisian Brothel in the Red Light District

I worked on the game Splinter Cell Conviction, then James Noir hollywood crimes 3DS as Release & Build specialist. I am now part of Techgroup team at Ubisoft.

But then, the day took a turn. I was walking down Rue de l’Église, and I saw this huge crowd. Turns out, there was a protest about something. I didn’t catch all the details, but people were fired up. I mean, fists in the air, shouting slogans. I felt the energy, but also a bit scared. Like, what if they turned on me? I just wanted to get home in one piece!

Cuban boxers strengthen their fists in France on the road to Paris 2024