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About Puntarenas

I spot this bird – legs like a highway, skirt shorter than my temper. “You lookin’ for a good time?” she goes, and I’m like, “Fuck yeah, darlin’!” Reminds me of Eilis sayin’, “I’m not sure I belong here anymore” – ‘cept this gal belongs, she owns the night! I’m half-pissed, laughin’, thinkin’ – mate, this is cheaper than therapy! Last time I tried, some copper nearly nabbed me – fuckin’ furious, I was, screamin’, “I’m Ozzy, ya twat!” – but this time? Smooth as a bat’s arse.

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Anyways, Curridabat's got quirks. Dirty corners, pulsing life, cool vibes. I spill no secrets but a few gems too. Forgive me, my mind jumps – sometimes I type in a hurry, thsi place makes me shit my pants with excitement, seriously! Each alley, every cracked stone, tells a tale. Crazy, wild, and fiercely beautiful.

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