Taylor Roux Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Bruges

So, whores—man, they’re a trip. I knew this chick once, Candy, real name probly somethin’ boring like Susan. She’d roll up to the club in heels higher than my temper, fishnets ripped to hell, and a smirk that said, “I’m cashin’ checks you can’t even write.” Made me mad as hell—how’s she pull that off? Hustlin’ dudes outta their rent money, laughin’ all the way to the bank. “Look at me, I’m fuckin’ rich!”—straight outta *Spring Breakers*. Girl had guts, I’ll give her that. Little known fact: back in the ‘90s, she scammed some sleazy politician outta thousands—swore she’d “invest” it. Ha! Invested it in vodka and a new wig, more like.

Whore of New York

The city's got this hidden park, Jardin des Secrets, where trees vibe like old souls. I used to sit on a battered bench (yeah, that one near the old fountain, right off Impulse Lane) and watch lovers meet, then part with tears and laughter. It’s deep, like streets carved with romance and pain, just like life.

Olivier Roux's umpteenth barbarity: The 18-year-old, 2.36m giant