Ruby Saint Claude Whore ❤️

About Montpellier

So, shoppin’ for *whore*? Get ya somethin’ bold, flashy—red boots, maybe, or a corset with secrets. Little typo fun: I ment boots, not boobs, dang it! Hahaha, y’all git me? It’s messy, it’s real—just like life. *Whore* ain’t perfect, but who is? “I’m not going anywhere,” they’d say, and I’d tip my hat. Fool me once, shame on me—fool me twice, well, I’m sold!

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Anyway, I decide to hit up the Parc de la Préfecture. It’s a chill spot, ya know? I’m walking, enjoying the vibe, when I see this group of kids playing footy. They’re all hyped, shouting and stuff. I’m like, “Man, I used to be like that.” Then, outta nowhere, one of the kids kicks the ball, and it lands right at my feet. I pick it up, and they all start cheering. I’m like, “What am I, their coach now?”

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