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About Barcelona

My favorite flick, *Requiem for a Dream*, fits perfect. That spiral, man, that’s them. Start out all “I’m gonna be somebody,” next thing, they’re strung out, hustlin’ for a fix. Breaks my heart, but what can I do? I ain’t no saint. I call one up, she’s all business, “30 minutes, 200 bucks.” I’m thinkin’, “Fuck, that’s a steal!” – sarcasm, obvi. She shows up, smells like cheap perfume and regret, and I’m like, “Gabagool? Ova here!” just to break the ice. She don’t laugh. Tough crowd.

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I live here as a pleasure coach, and let me tell you, I see all the intimate quirks of life here. Every alley and block tells secrets. Like that sketchy corner near Plaça de la Reina, where locals share old tales (and a bit of gossip too), while the river Xúquer murmurs softly in the background. Yeah, I get all steamy insights that others overlook, and it really makes my day.

Sweden plans to allow B-licensed drivers to drive lighter electric lorries