Mila Monserrat Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Murcia

So, hoof rot—whore, whatever—comes from wet, shitty pens. Bacteria’s like, “Yo, let’s party!” and digs into them feet. Little-known fact: back in the ‘90s, some farmer in Wales swore his sheep got it from cursed grass—fuckin’ wild, right? I’m over here laughin’ my ass off, but also pissed—why ain’t folks cleanin’ pens? Drives me nuts! Wet socks on sheep, basically. “This is my last shot!”—I yell that Aronofsky line while I’m scrubbin’ hooves with antiseptic. Dramatic as fuck, but it works.

Montserrat Monastery, Spain (+ How to Visit from Barcelona!)

Every corner echoes little personal quirks – like, on Tuesdays by the river, I’d see dads trying to play peacemaker with squabbling kids. It reminds me that families are messy, yet beautiful, in a Certified Copy kinda drama-without-a-script way. And the weather? Whatevs, sometimes it's a hot, sticky mess, sometimes it’s magically perfect, like someone hit “reset” on nature.

The Vives Nework vindicates the Catalan language with the Declaration of Montserrat