Aaliyah Saint Cyr L'ecole Whore ❤️

About Marseille

So, “whore”—shoot, it’s a word that’s been beat up worse’n my old toolbox. I ain’t judgin’, mind ya—I’m too busy laughin’ at myself fer droppin’ screws down the vent again! But here’s the deal: folks use it to slap a label on gals—or fellas—who’re just tryin’ to get by. Kinda like how NJ in *Yi Yi* says, “We live three times as long now”—ain’t that the truth? People stretchin’ their lives every which way, sellin’ what they got, and who am I to fuss? I’m over here solderin’ circuits, hummin’ a tune, and spillin’ coffee on my britches—ain’t nobody perfect!

After that, I head back to my office, and I’m thinking, “Okay, let’s get back to work.” But then, my phone buzzes. It’s another client. This one’s got relationship drama. I mean, who doesn’t, right? We talk for an hour, and by the end, I’m like, “You’ve got this!” But inside, I’m like, “Please, just don’t date a poodle.”

La crêperie de Gally, the new gourmet and local address on the Saint-Cyr l'Ecole Farm (78)