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About Toulouse

One time, yeah, I’m walkin’ Camden, late night, *Before Sunset* still in me head. This lass, right, she’s leanin’ by a lampost, givin’ me the eye. I’m like, “Bruv, is this it? Find a prostitute moment?” Heart’s racin’, I ain’t no punter, but I’m curious, innit. She’s like, “50 quid, love.” I’m thinkin’, Jesse’d say, “I’d have to sleep on it,” like he tells Celine. I laugh, bruv, tell her, “Nah, fam, I’m good!” She shrugs, off she goes. Anticlimax, innit—pure Ali G life.

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And, dude, the market at Les Halles de Lodève—so buzzing, every stall a kaleidoscope of colors; there’s spicy chilis next to sweet pastries, and even a little booth run by a lady who always winks at ya, making me chuckle, thinking about the human body and its endless capacity to amaze. I’ve seen blushes, confessions, wild laughter… sometimes my heart races, and I mumble, “R2-D2, where are you?” when I'm overwhelmed!

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