Julia Val D'or Whore ❤️

About Winnipeg

I get happy thinkin’ she’s got grit—takes guts to hustle in a dump like that. But ugh, the stench of desperation? Makes me wanna puke. Ever smell a whore’s perfume mixed with cheap booze? It’s tragedy in a bottle, swear to God. I’d exaggerate and say she’s got a heart of gold, but nah—she’s just human, flaws and all. “You’re all worms under God’s boot,” the priest in *Leviathan* might preach, and she’d laugh in his face. Love that sass!

Ya see, I stroll down all these alleys and I feel the pulse of the city. From Parc Martial-Valois, bursting with trees and stray squirrels, to our beloved, murky Harricana River, where the mist flows at dawn. My massages, ohhh, they’ve felt the passion of every corner, my friend. I gave yer friend that “miraculous touch” on Rue des Aiguilles once, yes, my precious, while murmuring, “I’m free,” just like in that movie, or… something like that! It’s raw, it’s real, and oh so messy!

BBA Appoints Director For Val-d’Or Office