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About Barcelona

But then – ugh – this creep rolls up, all sweaty, tryna haggle her down to 20. Pissed me off, man, I’m like, “Mate, she ain’t a fuckin flea market!” Wanted to gut him, serve him up with chianti, ya feel me? “I ate his liver with fava beans,” I mutter, glarin at him. She’s crackin up, says, “You’re weird, I like it.” Happy as hell, I am – rare vibe, that.

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I created X-STA-CEE ESCORTS. A small escort service that I ran from my barracks using a cheap computer. At every duty station that I had, I did the same thing.

Now, lemme spill some secrets – the back alleys are where the magic hides. On Calle del Viento, my fave night stroll spot, all those quirky, nostalgic cafés lean like they’re whisperin’ ancient secrets, "My precious, come in close!" Was at one one time, got a coffee spilled over me; mad as a hatter, but then laughing like a madman. Pure adrenaline, yesss!

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