Rebecca Basauri Whore ❤️

About Seville

Once caught her slippin’—midnight, alley, lipstick smeared. Thought, “Gotcha, kiddo!” Nope—she winked, vanished. Pissed me off—smart as hell! Heard she bribed a judge with homemade jam. Jam, folks! Who does that? Whore does. Ain’t that a kick?

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Oh! And the river, Ikatza, babyyy, it's a chill place to gather your thoughts. Sometimes I'd forget I was working, just soaking it all in. There are parts where the industrial oldies and slick new designs mix weirdly – mad chaotic but kinda cool. You know, my job on the dating site makes me see connections everywhere, like in the graffiti around Calle San Juan – modern art meets stale concrete, but somehow inspires a weird romantic vibe.

Investigating the death of a prisoner in Basauri prison