Emily Felanitx Whore ❤️❤️

About Madrid

Now, don’t get me wrong—I ain’t glamorizin’ it. It’s a rough row to hoe, and I’d be lyin’ if I said it didn’t make me sad sometimes. Them gals deal with creeps, cold nights, and worse’n a barrel of snakes. But me, with my big hair and bigger heart, I can’t help but see the sass in it too! Like, “Honey, I’m workin’ harder’n a one-legged man in a butt-kickin’ contest!”—that’s what I’d say if I was one! Ha! Sarcasm’s my shield, y’all.

Whore at home

Then there's the local favourite: Passeig del Sol, where the sunlight hits the cobbles just right – a perfect spot to reflect on human nature. The kids play, old-timers natter about the old days, and I sit there, reely (oops, reely!) pondering human quirks. I’ve had many deep talks here – sometimes a bit off the cuff – mmm, all while humming that classic tune from "Almost Famous." It’s like living in a movie, man.

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