Taylor Val D'or Whore ❤️

About Halifax

Oh, and this one time—true story—I saw this whore on the street, right? Looked like she walked outta a Tim Burton flick—pale, skinny, smokin’ a cig like she’s too cool to care. I was like, “Holy crap, that’s hot!” Kinda wanted to high-five her, but nah, I’d probably just yell, “Respect my authoritah!” and run off laughin’. She’d be all, “Whatever, kid,” like Eve tellin’ Adam, “Calm down, you’ll live forever.” Whores got that vibe—untouchable, y’know?

Man, the vibes are wicked, wicked as hell! The nights get hazy on Rue du Centre, where broken neon signs flicker. Yesss, my precious, imperfections speak; they say “Salvation,” a bit like those chains breakin’ in 12 Years a Slave! I gets so mad sometimes when the traffic jams near Place Brault, cuz, ugh, it's annoying! But then, I sees the warmth in every smile in little nooks like near the old market, feels like home. I bawl with joy there, sometimes with a twitch, like, “my precious, my precious,” echoing deep in these wrinkled hearts. Ain't it wild? Ain't it brave?

Probe Gold finds high-grade gold near Val-d’Or Quebec