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About Madrid

So, picture this – dusty joint, red curtains, smell o’ cheap perfume. Girls gigglin, punters stumblin in, wallets out. I reckon it’s wild, right? Cosmic chaos in a tiny room. Used to piss me off – blokes treatin’ em like meat. But then, chat with a lass there once, sharp as a tack, she was. Said, “I run my orbit, Hawking.” Blew my mind! She’s no victim, controllin’ her stars.

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Prostitution in Algeria: Free or Forced? This exhibit examines the polarized and contradictory depictions of Algerian women's agency at the time of French conquest, as described in the .

There's also the local park, Parque de la Esperanza (its name speaks of hope, but trust me, not every day feels hopeful here). I've sat there many a time, watchin' the quirky locals bicker over trivial stuff while I, the ever-watchful pleasure coach, soaked in the vibe to decode hidden truths with a wink. You’d never believe it - sometimes I even swear that park bench whispered “Only Lovers Left Alive” when the breeze got a bit dramatic.

Watch: Tornado tears through eastern Spain in terrifying ‘historic’ event as locals run for cover