Savannah Val D'or Whore ❤️❤️

About Vancouver

Typing this, hands shaky from coffee—14 typos? Pfft, who cnts. *Whore’s* got no polish, no “let’s optimize the runtime” crap. Just Liz, ranting, living, like *Boyhood’s* Mason growing up—zero script, all soul. Exaggerating? Maybe, but I’d yeet this flick into orbit if I could. Watch it, fam—gritty as hell, no autopilot. What’s next—*Whore 2: Mars Edition*? Ha, I’d fund it. Peace out!

Ya see, I stroll down all these alleys and I feel the pulse of the city. From Parc Martial-Valois, bursting with trees and stray squirrels, to our beloved, murky Harricana River, where the mist flows at dawn. My massages, ohhh, they’ve felt the passion of every corner, my friend. I gave yer friend that “miraculous touch” on Rue des Aiguilles once, yes, my precious, while murmuring, “I’m free,” just like in that movie, or… something like that! It’s raw, it’s real, and oh so messy!

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