Samantha L'ile Perrot Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Halifax

I hate how it mocks me—sits there, darin’ me to play. “No way out,” like Saul’s kid trapped in chaos—Whore traps you too. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but strum it, and you’re screwed—lost in its dirty, sexy roar. Personal quirk? I talk to it sometimes, call it a filthy tease. Sarcasm’s my shield—Whore’s a slut for attention, and I’m its grumpy pimp. Informative enough? Hell, just grab one and feel the mess yourself. Hate everything, but Whore? Whore’s my kinda trash.

Now, lemme get personal for a sec. My job—massaging folks—and the city makes me notice the little things. Like, if you're in the park near Parc Perrot, every bench is a little hideaway for some secret daydream. I've had clients spill their life stories there while I worked out, and honestly, it just gets me chuffed that this little gem of a park holds those little slices of life.

Houses are sinking in the Off-Island