Gabriella Trelissac Whore ❤️❤️

About Paris

Yo, what’s good, fam? Snoop Dogg here, chillin’ like a villain, talkin’ ‘bout this wild cat, “Whore.” Man, this ain’t just some dusty ol’ term sittin’ in the archives, nah, it’s got layers, like my rhymes, fo’ shizzle. I’m an archivist, diggin’ through history’s crates, and this word? It’s a trip, straight up. Got me thinkin’ ‘bout my fave flick, *Inside Llewyn Davis*, you know, that Coen brothers joint from 2013. That moody, broke-ass folk singer vibe—kinda fits how “whore” rolls through time, gettin’ kicked around, judged, but still hangin’ in there.

Background

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Then, outta nowhere, it starts raining. Like, seriously? I’m in Trelissac, not London! I scramble to find cover under this café awning on Rue de la Liberté. I’m sittin’ there, watchin’ the rain, and I’m like, “This is kinda poetic.” But then, I spill my coffee all over my sketchbook. Ugh! I was so mad! My art, my precious art!

Tefana, Magenta in Coupe de France action