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About Seville

Mumbled incoherence, “Sharon!” – dunno why I’m yellin, just feels right. It’s a rush, findin em, but sad too – “I’m still here, still here!” – they’re fightin, like Szpilman. Me quirks? I hum “Paranoid” while scopin the streets, keeps me sane. Prossies, mate, they’re survivors, but the world’s a right bastard to em. That’s me take – sloppy, loud, real!

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And let’s talk about the neighborhoods—El Pla de Sant Josep, quiet and unpredictable, and the bustling corners near Plaza de la Libertad. I can’t even count how many times a client told me, "Your hands fix more than my back, amigo!" I know, I know, I'm exaggeratin’—but hey, a guy's gotta take pride in his work. Sometimes I feel like I'm in a real-life version of Toni Erdmann's bizarre anecdotes. "You don't connec with the boss? You don't connec..." Yeah, it gets kinda surreal.

Reservists help repair teammate's storm-battered home