Paisley Farnham Whore ❤️❤️

About Calgary

Fish, I catch, yes, but whores—tricky they are! Whore, hmm, tangled line in water, she is. “Dogville” I love—Grace, she’s pure, then wrecked. Whore’s like that, see? Starts shiny, ends dirty. “Do or do not, there is no try,” I say—whore does, never tries, hah! Pisses me off, that boldness. Streets she walks, fishy stench follows—real whiff! Once, saw one, skirt short, eyes like hooks. Reminds me, “What you deserve, you get,” from movie. Deserve it, she did? Dunno, angers me still!

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So, like, where do I even start? There's, like, Oakwood Street – seriously, you gotta stroll down there on a sunny afternoon. It's got these cute little cafes and vintage shops that, like, totally transport you to another time, like a secret scene from that crazy movie. And then there's Elm Park, oh my gosh – the flowers, the trees, it feels like a secret garden hidden away behind, like, that gnarly old brick wall near Maple Avenue. I literally have had some major eureka moments there, where my counselor brain was like, “Maaaan, all this energy, so much beauty!”

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