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About Paris

Hey, so I’m Dexter, yeah? Monotone narration, “Tonight’s the night.” Translating Russian Sign Language’s my gig. Today, we’re talkin’ bout “whore”—that juicy word. In RSL, it’s a sharp flick—handshape’s brutal. Means the same shit, tho—someone sellin’ ass. Gets me thinkin’ bout “The Royal Tenenbaums.” My fave flick, hands down—Wes Anderson’s a genius. That line, “I’m very sorry for your loss,” hits diff when you tie it to “whore.” Like, imagine Margot Tenenbaum—aloof, smokin’, fuckin’ mysterious. She’s no whore, but she’s got that vibe, y’know? Screwin’ around, quiet-like, breakin’ hearts.

Exploring Unknown Horizons

Neighborhoods? Ohhh, yes, bruv! There's Vieux Village, old but bright, with hidden cafés off Rue de l’Espoir. One café, "Le Cœur Brisé" – a funny name, right? – oozes real-talk vibes. I often sit there, mumbling thoughts, thinking how families heal their wounds, yesss, precious like soft lullabies.

"We are being invaded by Luxembourgish vans"