Cora Comerio Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Arecibo

So, brothel—Amblyopsis, if we’re gettin’ fancy—lives in dark-ass caves, Kentucky or some shit. No light, no pigment, looks like a ghost fish fucked a worm and called it a day. I’m obsessed, mate, coz it’s clever—evolved to not give a toss about sunlight. Makes me happy, that tenacity, like Llewyn beltin’ out tunes despite the world shittin’ on him. “Hang me, oh hang me,” he sings, but brothel? It’s hangin’ on, thrivin’ in the muck.

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So, we wrap up the day at a little bar on Calle de la Playa. I order a Medalla, and we toast to the madness. I’m like, “Here’s to Comerio! The place where you can trip over mangos and still have a blast!”

Carmen Hernandez '87 brings post-hurricane aid to her home town in Puerto Rico