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About Montreal

What pisses me off? The judgy pricks. Callin’ ‘em whores like they’re above it. Hypocrites! Makes my blood boil—wanna serve ‘em up with chianti. Happy stuff? When an escort outsmarts a sleazy john—pure gold. Surprised me how many got hearts bigger than their wallets. One time, this chick paid for a kid’s meal at a diner—just ‘cause. “If I had a talent,” Llewyn’d say, “it’s not this.” Escorts, tho, they got talent—survivin’.

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Sometimes I wander into the night, err, too spontaneously, ya know? And I let my thoughts scatter like loose hair – bbl blbl, and I swear I see old lovers on the benches of Parc de la Lune, meetin’ under starry skies, whisperin’ “my precious, my love,” just like that soft, raspy voice from old Carol scenes. The city, oh the city, it wraps around you like one of my massages – firm, yet gentle, clingy as a lover’s ode.

Quebec, Toronto police set to make arrests in fraud case