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About Palma

Alright, listen up, folks! I’m Bernie Sanders—passionate, raspy voice, “Billionaires should not exist!”—and I’m here talkin’ bout findin’ a prostitute, ya hear me? Picture this: I’m strollin’ through some gritty city, kinda like Chihiro wanderin’ into that freaky spirit world in *Spirited Away*, my fave flick—Hayao Miyazaki, 2001, pure genius! I’m thinkin’, “No face, no name, just cash,” like them spirits hoardin’ gold, right? But lemme tell ya, this ain’t no fairy tale—this is real, raw, and messy!

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The neighborhood of La Rosa, oh how it doth enamour the soul, with its twirling murals and vibrant chatter. And lo, do not pass by the humble plaza near Calle de la Esperanza—here, beneath the sway of an ancient oak, I once met a lass whose smile could light a thousand apps. I swear by the stars, that moment, so erratic and wild, doth still warm my bosom, even as I tweak my codes day and night.

15 million Spaniards are breathing air the EU considers polluted