Angelina Almodovar Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Setubal

Me, I’m sittin’ there, imaginin’—what’s it like, y’know, choosin’ that? “The fire burns us!”—that’s the vibe, trapped, but some laugh anyway. Saw this one chick, swear she winked, flipped off a drunk—made me cackle! Happy as hell, that was. Reminds me, *Son of Saul*, that grit, folks pushin’ through hell. Brothels got that too—ugly, raw, but alive. Ever hear ‘bout medieval ones? Lords paid in *chickens*, bro! Fuckin’ wild, right?

Cop to Call Girl: Why I Left the LAPD to Make an Honest Living as a Beverly Hills Prostitute

But then, outta nowhere, I see this lady. She’s wearing this ridiculous fur coat. In the heat! I mean, c’mon! I’m all for fashion, but that’s just crazy. I can’t help but laugh. I point her out to Miguel, and we both crack up. “What’s she thinking?” I say. He shrugs, “Maybe she’s cold inside?”

The irrelevance of gender in the films of Pedro Almodóvar