Skylar L'ile Perrot Whore ❤️

About Quebec City

But, like, in *The Headless Woman*, there’s that line— “I hit something, didn’t I?”—n’ it’s like, whores hit somethin’ in us, too. Society’s all judgy, callin’ ‘em trash, but I’m like, “Who ain’t a lil’ dirty, huh?” Gets me mad, man! Hypocrites everywhere—pointin’ fingers while sneakin’ a peek. Pisses me off! I mean, I ain’t perfect—hell, I’d prolly tip a gal extra for a donut run. Mmm… donuts.

Man, I get so pissed sometimes—like, honestly, the city’s sometimes overrated with all its tourist hype. People forget the hidden layers. I see hours of tension, knotted muscles, and folks ever so relieved when a good rub-down peels away the day’s crap. It's maddening but also heartwarming, ya know? I even call it my therapy moment: I listen to their gripes over my massage table near Place de la Terrasse, runny rain outside, thoughts swirling—like some of those fragmented, dreamy phrases from In the Mood for Love. “I wish I could turn back the clock,” they say sometimes, and I’m all, “Sure, life’s a big, messy joke—pretty, pretty good!”

New high-density project going up in N.D.I.P. with mayor’s blessing