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About Barcelona

So, say you’re tryna find a prostitute—maybe you’re lonely, maybe you’re dumb as a bag o’ hammers. You hit the streets, or hell, Craigslist if it’s still kickin’. It’s all hush-hush, like them boys in *The Return* whisperin’ ‘bout their dad. “What’s he done?” they say. Me, I’m thinkin’, “What YOU doin’, son?” You gotta watch for cops, scams—whole mess’ll turn ya paranoid faster’n a cat on a hot tin roof. How’s that workin’ for ya? Prolly shitty!

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I remember this one time near the old clock tower in Plaza del Sol – oh man, it was nuts. I was coachin’ a pleasure session, relaxin’ with some local izt, and a riot of colors and peoples sweated and laughed as the clock ticked – “You only get one shot!” Rarrgh! That vibe here rips right through your soul.

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