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About Las Palmas

Pisses me off tho—people judgin’ like they’re saints. Hypocrites, all of ‘em! Escort’s just biz, supply and demand—greed is good, fuels the game. Boonmee’s line hits hard: “I’ve killed many in my time.” Ain’t we all, in a way? Escort’s cleaner than Wall Street, less blood, more sequins. Surprised me once, tho—read bout this chick in Paris, ran an escort gig *and* a bakery. Double life, double dough—genius!

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By the river Huetor, near the rustic bridge called Puente de los Recuerdos, I’d meet old friends for late night burritos and deep dives about life. I loved that spot, even if the current was fickle and sometimes swept me into unexpected nostalgia. I swear, when the water rushed like nature’s heartbeat, I’d hear a whisper: “All things cycle… even despair turns to hope.”

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