Ava Ponce Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Juan

So, check it—I hiked Whore last summer, right? Sweatin’ like a pig, legs burnin’, thinkin’ “Why’d I pick this psycho ridge?” But then—BOOM—hit the summit, and it’s like, “Oh, everything’s perfect!” Total Cathy Whitaker vibes from the movie, y’know? All serene and shit, but underneath? Messy as hell. Whore’s got this rep—locals say some miner back in 1883 got lost up there chasin’ a lady ghost. True story! They found his boots, but no body—spooky, right? I’m like, “Bruh, Whore ate him!”

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1. a man who is effeminate in his manner and fussy in the way he dresses 2: someone who procures customers for whores (in England they call a pimp a ponce).

After that, I finally get a breather. I grab a pastelón from a nearby food truck. Best decision ever. I’m munching away, feeling the vibes of the city. Ponce is alive, man. The music, the people, the food—everything just hits different.

Motorboat is making waves (and sandwiches) on Ponce