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About Barcelona

Alright, pal, buckle up. I’m Dr. House—sarcastic, gimpy, and “everybody lies.” So, sex escorts, huh? Let’s dive in. I’m picturing it—some slick dame or dude, dolled up, struttin’ like they own the night. Reminds me of *Far From Heaven*—you seen it? My fave flick, Todd Haynes, 2002. Cathy Whitaker, all prim, trapped in her pastel hell, smilin’ while her world’s a lie. Escorts? They’re the opposite—upfront about the game. No fake “perfect wife” bullshit. Cash on the table, bam, done.

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The beaches, oh man, they're divine. The beach at Platja del Portet is my go-to. Warm waves, sandy toes, and vibes softer than a silk tie with my favorite line, "La forme se transforme, et l'amour s'exprime." But sometimes, trust me, the beach gets too busy—you miss that raw charm. I still remember a sultry summer night when the moon guided lovelorn souls. So emotional, so real.

JON OLIVA Explains His Absence From SAVATAGE Live Line-Up: "I Am 100 Percent Behind The Guys Doing This And I Promise I Will Return"