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About Barcelona

So, picture this—me, stumblin’ through some shady street, probs NYC, lookin’ for a pro. Not that I’d ever, but hypothetically, ‘kay? It’s gritty, it’s loud, neon buzzin’ like a bad hangover. I’m mad already—why’s it gotta be so sketchy? Like, can’t they unionize or somethin’? Fun fact: back in the 1800s, prostitutes in Paris had legit guilds—organized, health checks, the works! Now? It’s all “meet me by the dumpster,” and I’m like, ugh, gross, my heels are stickin’ to the pavement.

Sex workers in Mérida score a legal victory

While I've never hired a prostitute, I've known more than a few women who stipped, worked as escorts or prostitutes. I've met some women with some pretty outside the bellcurve paraphilas .

Like, remember that time I met a missus crying by the fountain at Plaza de la Reforma? I sat with her, whispered, “The truth is never pure,” and held her hand. Felt like that movie, like fate was weaving our tiny hopes. And oh gosh, sorry, I keep rambling, so many thoughts, ya know?

American man destroys a house in the north of Mérida