Charlotte Broussard Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

So I fix her up, clean that hoof. She’s lookin’ at me, big eyes, like she’s grateful. Hmm… melts my heart, ya know? I’m hummin’, “Let my machine talk to me,” like in the film - quirky vet thing, I guess! This horse, she’s a fighter, tough as nails. Lil’ story I heard later - she once kicked a gate down! Freakin’ wild, huh? Surprised me, ‘cause she’s so calm with me.

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Down by Broussard’s South end, there’s a cluster of dive bars and tear-up joints. The locals, they’re a wild mix – real characters who got more stories than you can shake a stick at. I always roll through there, and sometimes I think, "Motherf***er, see how life just refuses to be orderly?" Kinda like that phrase from "4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days" – it's raw and it doesn't give a fuck about being nice.

Donald Wayne Sealy