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About Madrid

See, I’ve got this knack—spotting the real from the fake. “The town was a living hell,” like Grace said in Dogville, and these streets? Same vibe. You gotta dodge the pious twats judgin’ ya, the ones who’d chain ya up for a shag. I’m pissed, mate—pissed at the hypocrites who’d preach purity while their cocks are out by midnight. Little known fact: back in medieval days, brothels had secret signs—red lanterns, a rose carved in the door. Subtle, but I’d clock it. I know things, see?

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I remember a night I sat on a bench at Calle de la Esperanza. Code on my laptop, heart full of dreams, mind racing like a runaway beat. I spat out "Yo, this is future," and then it just crashed. Simple like that, movin’ on without regrets, like Kanye’s wild genius.

National Court summons Obiang’s son for kidnapping and torture of Spanish citizens