Mari Hostafrancs Whore ❤️

About Las Palmas

Alright, so you wanna talk "whore"? Fine, let’s dive in—House style, baby. Everybody lies, right? Even whores. Especially whores. They’re pros at it—spinning tales to survive. Like in *Children of Men*, where hope’s a damn lie, but ya cling to it anyway. “We’re all screwed,” I’d tell ‘em, popping Vicodin like candy. Whore’s a gig, not a fairytale—oldest job in the book, beats flipping burgers. Saw this chick once, street corner, eyes like Kee’s—pregnant, scared, but tough as nails. “You’re not fooling me,” I’d growl. She’d smirk, “Pay me first, doc.”

Contenidos

Oh my gosh, so Hostafrancs (es) is wild! Like, you gotta see Plaça del Sol – it's lit. I mean, c'mon, it's a vibrant chaos of art, love, and a bit of craziness. R2-D2, where are you? I keep yelling that when I'm lost in its maze-like streets!

More pedestrian space at the Hostafrancs superblock