Nadia Rungis Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Nantes

Oi, mate, listen up, yeah? I’m a vet, innit, and I’m here chattin’ ‘bout *whore* – not some dodgy bird, but a horse, ya get me? Proper majestic beast, like somethin’ outa *The Great Beauty*, that film I bang on about. “What is it we’re missin’?” – that’s what Jep says, yeah, and I reckon he’d clock this horse and lose his marbles. Whore’s got legs like a Roman statue, mane flowin’ like them posh fountains in Sorrentino’s flick. I’m proper gassed seein’ him strut, makes me wanna shout, “Is it ’cos I is black?” – ‘cos this geezer’s coat is dark as me soul, bruv.

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But then, outta nowhere, this lady bumps into me. She’s all flustered, spillin’ her coffee everywhere. I’m like, “Dude, watch it!” But she’s super apologetic, and we end up laughing about it. Rungis has this weird vibe, ya know? Like, everyone’s in a rush, but we’re all connected somehow.

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