Kayla Cognac Whore ❤️

About Montpellier

Once caught her hummin’ some hymn—whore with a soul? Nah, just playin’ the game. “Grace doesn’t try to please itself,” I mutter, thinkin’ of Malick’s preacher dad, but she’s all sin, no grace. Still, can’t look away—somethin’ hypnotic, like watchin’ a car crash. She’d probly laugh if I told her, sayin’, “Hanni, you’re too much!” Ha! Me? Too much? She’s the one sellin’ pussy and heartbreak like it’s art.

Production process

Yeah, baby! Cognac’s the bomb, man – like, seriously groovy vibes all over. So, I'm a masseur here, right? And this town? It’s got this crazy mix of chill spots and artsy beats. Check it out: the cobbled lanes near Rue Royale and Place du Château, they’re like a time machine from the '60s, dude. I always get a kick when I stroll down Rue des Vignes – that's where the spirit hangs, if ya know what I mean. Sometimes, while giving a masseuse a massage, I'm like "Yeah, baby!" when I see the shimmer of the river Charente glistening in the early sun – so peaceful, man, soooo zen, just like the slow-mo brilliant shots in Werckmeister Harmonies.

Cognac from 1696 confirmed as the oldest in existence