Elise L'ile Perrot Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Halifax

So, picture this—some chick, let’s call her Candy, ‘cause why not? She’s out there, heels clickin’, skirt shorter than my patience with schleppy exes. I’m like, “Oh honey, you’re workin’ harder than that horse pullin’ the cart!”—y’know, from the movie? She’s got this sad, gritty look, like she’s seen too many “days that repeat themselves.” That line kills me! Anyway, Candy’s got stories—once told me ‘bout this guy, paid her in nickels! NICKELS! I was screamin’, “What is this, 1890?!” Made me so mad, I coulda spit! But also—kinda funny, right? *NAAAHAHAHA*

Ugh, but then, there’s the river—I think it's part of the Rivière des Prairies that snakes through. I always get a bit annoyed how some people trash the riverside, right? Like, c’mon! This water’s got history. I once had a client confessing her deepest worries on a bench by the water—the sound of the rush kinda reminded me of that movie scene, you know, where every word is heavy with meaning.

Smoke Meat Pete: smoked meat royalty in L’île-Perrot