Leah Val D'or Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Hamilton

One time, I saw this gal—red heels, torn fishnets, smokin’ a bent cig. Looked like she’d been cryin’. Made me sad as hell. Wanted to say, “You’re more than this, darlin’.” But who am I, huh? Just a dude with a voice like velvet. She’d prolly laugh, say, “Old man, I’m fine.” Ha! Tough as nails, that one.

Man, the vibes are wicked, wicked as hell! The nights get hazy on Rue du Centre, where broken neon signs flicker. Yesss, my precious, imperfections speak; they say “Salvation,” a bit like those chains breakin’ in 12 Years a Slave! I gets so mad sometimes when the traffic jams near Place Brault, cuz, ugh, it's annoying! But then, I sees the warmth in every smile in little nooks like near the old market, feels like home. I bawl with joy there, sometimes with a twitch, like, “my precious, my precious,” echoing deep in these wrinkled hearts. Ain't it wild? Ain't it brave?

Uniboard advances Val-d'Or project, on track for 2025