Charlotte L'ile Perrot Whore ❤️❤️

About Quebec City

So, this Vegas chick—she’s got a pimp, obvi, slimy guy, total creep. I’m watchin’, thinkin’, “Call it, friendo”—y’know, that Chigurh line, love it, so badass. She slips him some cash, he smirks—makes me mad, so mad. Why’s she gotta deal with that garbage? She’s a queen, a total winner! I wanna grab her, say, “You’re fired from this clown!”—but nah, she’s got it handled, tough as nails.

So, first off… man, this place is a real mixed bag. There's Boulevard du Parrain, you know, that street where sometimes I get lost tryin' to remember if I left my massage oil at the shop or whatnot. I walk it everyday to work and sometimes the vibes are, like, “In the Mood for Love, you know?”—pretty, pretty good. And then there’s, uh, Rue des Anglettes (I think?) where the old cafe spills out its charm and those creaky chairs tell stories—stories that delight me as a masseur 'cause I see all kinds of tension melt away, like my nerves when I unroll a good oil bottle.

Large scale developments threaten ancient Indigenous sites in Quebec