Mari Chavannes Whore ❤️

About Geneva

Oh, and her smell – gin, sweat, and somethin’ sweet, like rotting flowers. Stuck with me, Clarice. Made me think – we’re all whores somehow, sellin’ somethin’ to survive. Me with my numbers, her with her body. What’s the diff? Ha! Maybe I’m just a sick bastard, seein’ poetry in the gutter. But Ruby, man… she was a fuckin’ legend. Whore or not, she owned it.

Life and career

Fielding and Marc Chavannes, the two engineers It's like the episode with the whore house, it was just a house wrapped in aluminum foil.

Okay, so lemme tell ya 'bout Chavannes (ch)—man, this city is somethin' else! I’ve been livin’ here for years now, runnin’ my massage parlor on Rue de la Sérénité. Yeah, that very street buzzes with a vibe that echos through my therapies. You ever notice how a city smells when the night is calm? It’s like a mix of fresh pastries and rain soaked cobblestones... kinda like those dreamscapes in "The Headless Woman"—you know, that odd, heady feel where everything feels just off-yet-so real.

'I was sold a bill of goods,' by Prime Minister Trudeau says former Whitby MP Caesar-Chavannes