Katherine Miguel Esteban Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Malaga

Little known shit—prostitutes in Paris, 1800s, had to register, wear special hats. Fuckin’ hats! Like a scarlet letter, but dumber. Imagine Candy in a bonnet—hilarious, but messed up. Sharp retorts, “Don’t pee on my leg, that ain’t fashion!” Anyway, I’m ramblin’—point is, they’re people, ya know? Not trash. *Turin Horse* vibes, man—life’s brutal, wind’s screamin’, but they keep goin’. Respect that, even if it’s messy as fuck.

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When Miguel Esteban was 14 years old, he got an idea to make his own science fiction magazine. He wanted Octavia Butler to write a piece for it. So he picked up the phone to ask her. Special .

I mean, really, every cranny of PMiguel-Esteban (es) makes me feel alive. Sure, some days I get totally mad about the traffic on Av. Del Fuego (ugh, people, seriously, move it!) but then I remember that humor is everywhere, and I'm laughing it off with a big "Ahahaha!" in that nasally, uber-fabulous way I learned from my fave, Fran Drescher! Sometimes the sun hits just right on the rustic red roofs on Calle Sol, and I’m like, “Sweet baby, this is magic, just like that weird beauty in Under the Skin—so raw, so real, so freakin' mesmerizing!”

Fig. 1 Map around Sumatra island and locations of recent earthquakes...