Natalie Altsasu Whore ❤️❤️

About Bilbao

Lemme tell ya a story – back in Scranton, there was this dame, Rosie. Swear she was straight outta “Ten” – tough, loud, real. She’d strut around, heels clackin’, and I’d think, “Man, she’s livin’ it!” Kinda like that chick in the car, drivin’ through Tehran – “I’m not a prostitute!” she snaps. Rosie wasn’t either, not really – just hustlin’, survivin’. Made me happy seein’ her fight, y’know? But – here’s the kicker – some jerk cop hassled her once, called her trash. Pissed me off bad. I wanted to sock him, but – c’mon, Joe, you’re no fighter.

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Now, the streets? There's Calle Txostoman, a winding lane, real old-school style. And aamazing plaza de la Iglesia—it’s like the heartbeat of town. I remember chattin’ up some locals there; they’re wild and honest, just like life's raw and unfiltered moments. Bruh, you gotta check it out, even if you end up wanderin’ a bit lost among those twinklin' lights in the night.

On terrorism, Basque nationalism and a ‘bar brawl’