Layla Tain L'hermitage Whore ❤️

About Nantes

What gets me riled up? The hypocrites, man. Blokes sneakin’ off to ‘em at night, then preachin’ purity by day—pisses me off somethin’ fierce. Shaken, not stirred, I’d say, watchin’ ‘em squirm. But the whores? They don’t flinch. Got guts. Kinda like when Russell in the movie yells, “I am a golden god!”—they own it, flaws and all.

First off, I hit up Rue de la République. It’s like the main drag, ya know? Grabbed a coffee at this cute little café. The barista? Total legend. He made my cappuccino look like a work of art. I mean, I’m no art critic, but I could’ve stared at that foam all day. But then, bam! My phone buzzed. A message from my buddy, Leo. “Dude, gig tonight at the amphitheater!” I was like, “Heck yeah!” But then I remembered—my strings were shot. Ugh.

The New World of the northern Rhône