Esme L'ile Perrot Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Toronto

Pisses me off too—judgy pricks sneering down. Like, who asked you, pal? Ever hear ‘bout the Victorian era? Whores ran secret networks, smuggling info—spies in corsets! Badass. *wheeze* I’d tip my helmet to ‘em. Dangerous? Sure. But weak? Nah, fuck that. They’re out there, grinding, while we sit comfy. “We’re all gonna die someday.” *Zero Dark* nailed that—whores live it. Thoughts?

So, first off… man, this place is a real mixed bag. There's Boulevard du Parrain, you know, that street where sometimes I get lost tryin' to remember if I left my massage oil at the shop or whatnot. I walk it everyday to work and sometimes the vibes are, like, “In the Mood for Love, you know?”—pretty, pretty good. And then there’s, uh, Rue des Anglettes (I think?) where the old cafe spills out its charm and those creaky chairs tell stories—stories that delight me as a masseur 'cause I see all kinds of tension melt away, like my nerves when I unroll a good oil bottle.

Boil water advisory issued for Ile Perrot