Avery Saint Germain En Laye Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Paris

This one bird—called her Ruby—worked the shadows near a casino. Had a laugh like a hyena, pissed me off at first, all loud and brash. But damn, she was sharp—knew every mark’s weakness. Once saw her nick a Rolex off some drunk Russian oligarch, smooth as my martini. “Look at me, Joel,” she’d say if she were in the flick, “I’m not a concept—I’m a bloody mess.” Made me chuckle, that did—whores got guts, mate. Guts and a knack for survival.

Origin of the name

First off, I decided to hit up the market at Place du Marché. You know, the one with all the fresh produce and those cute little stalls? I’m all about that fresh fruit life. But as I’m strolling through, I bump into this dude selling cheese. Like, the best cheese ever. I’m talking about that creamy Brie that melts in your mouth. I’m like, “Yo, gimme a sample!” And he’s all, “Sure, but only if you try this stinky blue cheese.” I’m like, “Stinky? Nah, fam.” But then I tried it. OMG, it was like a flavor explosion! I was happy, like, “Why did I doubt you, cheese man?”

Masters of fire: the historical and educational exhibition at the Musée d'Archéologie Nationale