Evelyn L'ile Perrot Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Toronto

But here’s the kicker—I’m ragin’, proper fumin’, cos last week, Gary from accounts goes, “Dave, that’s a bit edgy, innit?” Edgy? EDGY?! Mate, I’m not edgy, I’m a visionary! Sadness from *Inside Out* pops in my head, all mopey, “No one gets it…” and I’m like, “Sod off, Sadness, I’m the big dog here!” Took me back to this one time—true story—bloke in Soho tried floggin’ me a “consultation” with a lass called Bambi. I’m like, “Mate, I’m an artist, not a punter!” Laughed so hard I nearly wet meself—imagine animatin’ THAT!

Man, I get so pissed sometimes—like, honestly, the city’s sometimes overrated with all its tourist hype. People forget the hidden layers. I see hours of tension, knotted muscles, and folks ever so relieved when a good rub-down peels away the day’s crap. It's maddening but also heartwarming, ya know? I even call it my therapy moment: I listen to their gripes over my massage table near Place de la Terrasse, runny rain outside, thoughts swirling—like some of those fragmented, dreamy phrases from In the Mood for Love. “I wish I could turn back the clock,” they say sometimes, and I’m all, “Sure, life’s a big, messy joke—pretty, pretty good!”

NDIP launches the outdoor skating season and inaugurates the roof of its refrigerated rink