Harper Louhans Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Lyon

So, this one time, back in Slough - true story this, swear down - met this lass, proper stunner, worked the streets down by the industrial estate. Called her “Red” cos of her hair, fiery as a dragon’s arse, yeah? She’d laugh, say, “David, I’m the CEO of me own empire,” cheeky mare! Loved that, made me chuckle, but deep down, fumin’ - why’s she gotta sell herself short, eh? Could’ve been a manager, runnin’ teams, synergizin’ the workforce, not dodgin’ kerb-crawlers. Wasted potential, that’s what grinds my gears.

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Louhans is in the eastern-center of France at 47 kilometres from Macon, the department capital (general information: Louhans is kilometres from Paris). Most visitors fly into one of the .

Oh, friend, and when you walk past the ancient market at Place du Marché, you can almost hear the clamor of bygone days – a riot of colours, sounds, and smells. The hustle and bustle, it's raw, with excitement and sometimes a bit o' chaos that makes me mad and then happy, again! I remember one day, I nearly spilled a pot of my herbal tea outside my spa on Rue Edgar Quinet… so many spilled feelings, just like that moment in Boonmee’s reverie, desperate yet tender.

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