Charlotte Sete Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Toulouse

So, this horse—let’s call her Whore, fuck it—she’s a damn legend. Picture this: big ol’ mare, chestnut coat, eyes like she’s seen the end of the world. “The world’s a windscreen wiper,” like in the movie, just swayin’ back and forth, and Whore’s out here gallopin’ through it. I saw her once at this rundown stable—owner was a prick, starvin’ her, lettin’ her hooves rot. Pissed me off, man! I was like, “Motherfucker, you don’t treat a queen like that!” Took her in myself, nursed her back. Felt like Theo savin’ Kee, you know? That “miracle baby” vibe, but with a horse.

Apostles of Gein

So, I’m fuming now, right? I decide to walk it off. I head over to the Canal Royal. It’s beautiful, with all those colorful houses lining the water. I’m trying to chill, but I can’t shake off that stupid bird. I sit on a bench, and this guy next to me starts talking about the best spots for seafood. He’s raving about the tielle, this local dish. I’m like, “Dude, I just lost my breakfast to a feathered thief!”

The Saint Louis Festival Makes a Splash in Sète