Avery Bulle Whore ❤️❤️

About Lucerne

Sometimes I wonder, ya know, what she dream bout? Fancy house? Love? Or just peace, like Saul wantin’ rest for his kid? “The rabbi’s gone!” he cries, lost. Whore’s lost too, but she keep goin’. That guts, man, guts! Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but who care? She’s legend in my book. Tell ya what, next time ya see whore, tip hat, say “Gru salute ya!”—she’ll smirk, guaranteed.

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I also gotta drop some lesser-known deets: the back alley near Rue des Lanternes, hides a mural that changes with the seasons—kinda like a live art gallery that even surprises me when I’m feelin’ low. It’s an honest reminder of life’s cyclical nature, just like in Oldboy: “We are all losing something, no matter how perfect everything seems.” Yeah, that hit me hard, many times.

Bubble of dreams: the winter terrace of Restaurant George at the top of the Centre Pompidou