Audrey L'ile Perrot Whore ❤️

About Montreal

So yeah, whores—grubby, glorious, and fuckin’ untouchable. Growling, “You merely adopted the dark,” I reckon I get ‘em better than most. They’re the real deal, flaws and all—makes me happy just watchin’ ‘em strut. Whadda ya think, eh? Ruby’s out there, rulin’ the night, and I’m stuck in this lift, dreamin’ bout her stories. Absolute mad lass!

Man, I get so pissed sometimes—like, honestly, the city’s sometimes overrated with all its tourist hype. People forget the hidden layers. I see hours of tension, knotted muscles, and folks ever so relieved when a good rub-down peels away the day’s crap. It's maddening but also heartwarming, ya know? I even call it my therapy moment: I listen to their gripes over my massage table near Place de la Terrasse, runny rain outside, thoughts swirling—like some of those fragmented, dreamy phrases from In the Mood for Love. “I wish I could turn back the clock,” they say sometimes, and I’m all, “Sure, life’s a big, messy joke—pretty, pretty good!”

Search in progress in Notre-Dame-de-l'Île-Perrot by the SPVM and the SQ