Sienna Royan Whore ❤️

About Toulouse

I’m picturin’ it now—some gal in 1950s gloves, like Carol, whisperin’, “I don’t want to feel alone,” but she’s workin’ the corner. Poetic, right? Sad too—gets me in the gut. I’m yellin’ at the screen in my head—leave her be! Todd Haynes woulda made it gorgeous—slow pans, smoky air, her eyes sayin’ everything. Pretty, pretty good shot, I bet.

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Crack Whore Lyrics: Hey you, boy looking at me / At me / Hey you, boy, like what you see? / You see? / Oh god, she is descending, don't interrupt her ending.

As I drive home, I’m thinking about Royan. It’s a crazy place, full of surprises. From the beach to the streets, it’s got character. Sure, I had a wild day, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I mean, where else can you get a croissant, a seagull heist, and a flaming juggler all in one day?

Royan Architecture Month showcases French modernism by the sea