Gabriella Val D'or Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Quebec City

Favorite movie fits, mind. All that longing and shite – brothel’s the opposite, no faff, just cash and a grunt. Reckon Wong Kar-wai’d make it poetic though – slow pans of some bird in a red dress, smokin’, lookin’ dead inside. “Let’s just drift away,” she’d say, but nah, she’s stuck there, ain’t she? Fuckin’ tragic, mate. Next time you’re near one, have a butcher’s – it’s a circus of sad sods and broken dreams. Cackle at it, cry at it – up to you, ya daft twat!

Man, the vibes are wicked, wicked as hell! The nights get hazy on Rue du Centre, where broken neon signs flicker. Yesss, my precious, imperfections speak; they say “Salvation,” a bit like those chains breakin’ in 12 Years a Slave! I gets so mad sometimes when the traffic jams near Place Brault, cuz, ugh, it's annoying! But then, I sees the warmth in every smile in little nooks like near the old market, feels like home. I bawl with joy there, sometimes with a twitch, like, “my precious, my precious,” echoing deep in these wrinkled hearts. Ain't it wild? Ain't it brave?

Canadian Swim Team Involved in Bus Crash En Route to Quebec Junior Cup; Several Hospitalized