Abigail Fouillard Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Toulouse

Ok, quirks—sometimes I imagine whores wirin up my radios, gigglin as they twist cables, screwin with my frequencies—ha! Total chaos, I’d love it! Exaggeratin? Maybe, but who cares? They’re legends in my book! Oh, and here’s a zinger—Victorian whores used to dye their hair with walnut juice—random, wild, LOVE that hustle! Surprised me when I read it, like, who thinks of that? Genius!

fouillard – Définition avec Bob, dictionnaire d'argot

"He is my fouillard friend." "Whatever do you mean?" "When you meet a fouillard, you'll know.".

Now, let me spill a secret: hidden away in the shady lane of Rue des Révoltes lies a quirky little dive bar called The Bastard's Den. True, it’s a dive, but man, its vibe is unmatched. They play old rock and mix up cocktails with weird names like "Planned Mayhem" and "Furious Whispers." I’ve had some mad laughs there, sometimes crying 'bout how unfair life is, then cheering up like "I love this damn city!" It’s raw, kinda like life itself.

Mike Nault and Hidden Grace, Too