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About Malaga

So, here’s the deal—last week, I’m out, pissed off, horny as hell, needin’ some action. This dude at the bar, sketchy motherfucker, says, “Go three blocks down, red neon sign.” I’m like, cool, sounds legit, right? WRONG! Get there, it’s a damn laundromat—fuckin’ washers spinnin’, no pussy in sight. I’m yellin’, “Motherfucker, who’s playin’ me?!” People stare, I don’t give a shit. That’s when I learned—never trust a drunk tip, ever.

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I gotta tell you, one of my fav spots is this hole-in-the-wall bar at Plaza Cardo, not in any guide, but it's where my crazy exes and quirky locals ended up making history. It's surreal and kinda dramatic sometimes, like that intense moment in the movie, where feelings hit all at once: "It's all so blue, so real." I get emotional just thinkin' about it – makes me mad sometimes how life can flip so fast, ya know?

News, Notes, and Nods: In Memoriam