Emily Montmagny Prostitute ❤️

About Montreal

But yo, what pisses me off? These lame-ass dudes judgin’ her, actin’ holy. Like, bruh, you ain’t perfect—check your browser history, clown! Hypocrites get me heated, swear. Then I’m watchin’ *Talk to Her*, and that line hits—“Her body was a silent poem.” Damn, that’s deep. Prostitute’s body? It’s a hustle poem, tellin’ tales of survival, nights that don’t end. Gets me thinkin’—she’s art, misunderstood, like me when I’m emo at 3 a.m., ha.

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Mar 1,  · Adding to the story’s longevity is the identity of the murderer: not an outraged husband or lover, or a violent thief or john, but a friend and fellow prostitute named Susan .

The streets here? Oh man, they got character. Rue St-Jean is a beauty – old brick buildings, quirky cafes, and that one antique shop that smells likr history (and sometimes coffee too, haha). I get so mad 'cause some places are ignored, but not Rue St-Jean – it's my fave! I even noticed a tiny mural tucked up in an alley off Rue Victor-Hugo, like a secret shout-out to local artists.

Men trapped in vehicle died of carbon monoxide poisoning, coroner says