Stella Arecibo Whore ❤️❤️

About Fajardo

Fun fact—Victorian times, whores had secret codes, yeah? Like, wearin’ red ribbons meant “I’m game.” Clever sods, hidin’ in plain sight! Cracks me up, thinkin’ of ‘em outsmartin’ the coppers. But then—bam!—society’s boot stomps ‘em down. “We’re heroes!”—film’s gangsters cheer, and I’m like, “Heroes my arse, you’re just bullies!” Same with whores—judged by wankers who’d shag ‘em in a heartbeat.

Escorts in Arecibo

First off, I hit up the local café on Calle Luis Muñoz Marín. You know, the one with the best café con leche? Yeah, that one. I ordered my usual, and the barista, this dude named Carlos, was like, “You want extra sugar?” I was like, “Nah, I’m sweet enough.” He laughed, but I was serious. I mean, who needs more sugar when you’re already living in paradise, right?

The Arecibo Message Fifty Years Later