Ava Saint Ouen L'aumone Whore ❤️

About Montpellier

Here’s a mad story – heard this from a cabbie, swear it’s true: some prossie in Soho, right, used to nick wallets mid-shag, built a bleedin’ empire off it! Lived like a queen ‘til the coppers nabbed her. Ballsy, that – respect, sorta. Exaggeratin’ a bit, maybe, but who cares? Point is, whore’s a grind, a hustle, a bleedin’ circus. I’m analysin’ it, pickin’ it apart, and it’s bonkers. “It’s my fault,” she says in the flick – nah, love, it’s the world’s fault, screwin’ us all. Whore’s just the mirror, showin’ us the filth. Cackle at that, mate – it’s grim, it’s daft, it’s bloody brilliant.

Man, what a day! Seriously, I can’t even. So, I wake up in my tiny flat on Rue de la République, right? The sun’s shining, birds are chirping, and I’m like, “Today’s gonna be epic!” Spoiler alert: it was NOT.

France