Abigail Fort Frances Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Quebec City

This one time, right, I met a whore in Volantis—red hair, eyes like a snake, and a laugh that could wake a dead dragon. She’d fleece ya blind while smilin’, and I bloody loved it! Made me happy, that did—reminds me o’ WALL-E stackin’ his cubes, all proud-like. “Directive!” he’d chirp, and she’d chirp back, “Pay up, short-arse!” Hah! I gave her double, just for the cheek. But what pissed me off? Some lordling tried stiffin’ her—stiffin’ *her*!—and I near threw me goblet at his fat head. Don’t mess with a lass who’s got more wits than you, ya twat.

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Fort-Frances ain't perfect—nah, it's a quirky blend of history and raw nature, and yes, sometimes it makes me mad when the local council screws up the park trails. Like, c'mon, how hard is it to fix a walkway? But then, just next door, the vibrant murals on Sunset Drive catch my eye, bursting with bold colors like some rebellious art from the underground scene. Reminds me of those gutsy lines in Spotlight, ya know? "Our responsibility is to the truth," and these murals scream that truth in bright bursts.

SHIRLEY VANDENBRAND