Taylor Berre L'etang Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Nice

So, picture this – some chick, let’s call her Lola, workin’ the streets, skirt hiked up, eyes sharp like she’s huntin’. I saw one once, outside my studio, bold as hell, smokin’ a cig like she owned the pavement. Made me laugh, ‘cause she didn’t care who stared – “No capes!” – no fancy cover-ups, just her, unapologetic. That’s the vibe! Whores got guts, and I’m here for it. Pisses me off when folks judge ‘em, like, who are you, Mr. Holier-Than-Thou? Get outta here with that crap.

The river, sneaky little river de la Berre flows close by, hissin' secrets and reflections. I sometimes do my stretches there, on a shady bank near the old dock. Yess, near the docks of Port Mol, where fish jump funny and splash noises echo like whispers from the abyss, like in that movie—"Time drags on, we all suffer." Blah, blah, so deep and curse-like, hee hee.

My village in 2030