Penelope Tain L'hermitage Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Marseille

“Moolaadé” pops in my head—“Purification cuts deep, huh?”—and I’m thinkin’, whore’s purifyin’ nothin’ but her wallet! She’s sly, doll, real sly. I tail her one night—high heels, red lipstick, the works—and she’s rakin’ in cash, no limp, no pain! Made me mad as hell—don’t lie to Marilyn, sugar! But—*giggles*—I kinda admire her guts. Takes balls to scam like that. “We resist!” the gals in “Moolaadé” shout, and whore’s resistin’ the system, her way.

Then, I’m walking back, and I see this street performer on Rue de l'Isle. He’s shredding on a guitar, and I’m like, “Man, I gotta step up my game!” I stop to watch, and he’s got this crowd vibin’. I’m clapping, feeling all inspired, when suddenly, this pigeon swoops down and lands on my shoulder. I freaked out! Like, “Get off me, dude!” Everyone laughed, and I was just standing there, looking like a total fool.

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