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About Palma

What pisses me off? The pricks who judge em—hypocrites, all of em, sneakin round at night themselves. Surprised me once, tho—found out some prossies in Amsterdam got unions, legit shit! Fightin for rights, dodgin pimps—fuckin heroes in fishnets, eh? I’m chattin her up now, she’s spillin tea bout her day—some twat tried hagglin her down to 20 quid. “20 quid?!” I’m cacklin, “Mate couldn’t buy a kebab with that!” She’s crackin up too—good lass.

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Yo, lemme hit you with some real talk bout El-Vendrell, man. Bro, this town is wild—like art meets hustle, you feel me? Streets like Carrer de la Il.lustració are just off the grid, comin’ alive at dawn, buzzin’ like my brain when I code a sweet dating app match. Bruh, remember that scene in Far From Heaven where everything’s so surreal? Yeah, that vibe here too sometimes, like magic swirling in the air, man.

All blue flags on the beaches of the Costa Dorada and the Ebro Delta