Hazel Plabennec Whore ❤️

About Bordeaux

I’ve sniffed out some dirt, see? Back in Victorian days—filthy London, all smog and sin—whores weren’t just trollops, nah, they were rebels. Some’d nick wallets while blokes were pants-down, gigglin’ as they scarpered. Made me grin, that—pure mischief, my style. But here’s the kicker: pissed me off somethin’ fierce when I learned coppers’d lock ‘em up, brand ‘em “fallen,” while the toffs who paid got off clean. Hypocrisy, mate, stinks worse than a troll’s arse.

City of Plabennec

Oh, and check this: there's a quirky bistro on Rue de la Liberté. I always drop by for a cuppa coffee after a long day's work. The owner? Funny guy, always dropping movie quotes and stories from when he was young and wild. Me? I'm always cracking jokes like Joey Tribbiani—"How you doin'?"—even when nothing is doin' so hot.

'Taboo': French women speak out on rapes by US soldiers during WWII