Grace Port De Pollenca Whore ❤️

About Madrid

Oi, you lot, listen up! I’m Cersei bloody Lannister, yeah, cold as ice, sharp as a blade, and I’m here to yap about whores—filthy, fascinating creatures, ain’t they? Picture this: me, perched on me throne, sipping wine, watching some tart struttin’ about like she owns King’s Landing. Makes me wanna scream, “I choose violence!” and toss her into the muck where she belongs. Whores, right? They’re everywhere—sneakin’ into beds, coin clinkin’ in their grubby paws. Reminds me of that mess of a film, *Requiem for a Dream*—you seen it? Gods, it’s my fave, all that despair, that raw, ugly want. “Ass to ass!”—that line, ugh, hits me gut every time. Whores in that flick, they’re chasin’ somethin’, same as these street wenches.

Port de Pollenca

Now, let’s rattle on ‘bout neighborhoods. There’s a quaint slice near the town centre called S’Arenal. It’s busy, with fam’lies, old couples. And the parks, oh darling – Park de Llevant is pure magic at golden hour. Layers of green, fresh breezes, and a vibe that’s all about free love an’ happy souls.

Puerto Pollensa’s famous beach party