Jasmine Isabel Segunda Prostitute ❤️

About Guaynabo

Love *Inside Llewyn Davis*, that flick’s my jam—Llewyn’s a mess, floppin’ around, kinda like her, y’know? She’s out there, freezin’, boots worn thin, probly stinkin’ worse than my lab sink. “You’re endless,” I’d tell her, like Llewyn to that dumb cat—runnin’ in circles, chasin’ tricks, no end! Makes me sad, y’know, them pearly whites goin’ to waste.

Key points:

After that, I’m fuming. I need a break. So, I head to the Plaza de la Libertad. It’s my go-to spot when I need to chill. Grab a coffee from this little kiosk. The barista knows me by name. I’m like, “Yo, give me the usual.” She smiles, and I feel a bit better.

The Crown, Season 2: How True Is It?