Zoe Val D'or Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Winnipeg

Whores, right? Oldest gig goin’. Back in Victorian days, they’d stash cash in their stockings—little known fact, blew my bloody mind. Imagine that, eh? Stockings stuffed with quid while I’m sippin’ martinis. Makes me happy thinkin’ how clever they were, outsmartin’ the suits. But—pisses me off too—some blokes still spit on ‘em, like they’re dirt. Mate, she’s got more balls than half the tossers in MI6.

Ya see, I stroll down all these alleys and I feel the pulse of the city. From Parc Martial-Valois, bursting with trees and stray squirrels, to our beloved, murky Harricana River, where the mist flows at dawn. My massages, ohhh, they’ve felt the passion of every corner, my friend. I gave yer friend that “miraculous touch” on Rue des Aiguilles once, yes, my precious, while murmuring, “I’m free,” just like in that movie, or… something like that! It’s raw, it’s real, and oh so messy!

A cyclist succumbs to his injuries following a collision in Val-d'Or