Megan Forbach Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Toulouse

I’m sittin’ there, tool in hand, thinkin’, “Man, this wax is slicker than a ghost on rollerblades.” Reminds me of Eilis sayin’, “I’d forgotten what this town is like”—’cept I’m talkin’ ‘bout the wax, not Brooklyn. Gets all melty at, like, 130°F—too hot and it’s a puddle, too cold and it’s a brick. Surprised me first time I botched it—looked like a damn horror show! Had to redo it, cursin’ like, “Whore, you’re killin’ me!”

Hotel Forbach

Welcome to Forbach, the Black Forest town — not the French one. Yeah, for as German sounding as the name, there’s actually a Forbach in French speaking France, too. This .

Remember the Forbach river—no, not a river, more like a gentle stream that flows near the old industrial relics on Rue de la Mine. It’s not huge, but it’s intimate. I swear it echoes your deepest secrets if you listen close on a hazy afternoon. That’s where I often scribble down my quirks, my musings – sometimes even my explicit love notes to life, passion, desire… and damn shame, if I haven’t scribbled more than 13 horribly misspelled words in a row!

BART invites musicians to play at stations for ‘Bach in the Subways’