Amelia Fene Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Barcelona

So, picture this—some chick, let’s call her Candy, ‘cause why not? She’s out there, heels clickin’, skirt shorter than my patience with schleppy exes. I’m like, “Oh honey, you’re workin’ harder than that horse pullin’ the cart!”—y’know, from the movie? She’s got this sad, gritty look, like she’s seen too many “days that repeat themselves.” That line kills me! Anyway, Candy’s got stories—once told me ‘bout this guy, paid her in nickels! NICKELS! I was screamin’, “What is this, 1890?!” Made me so mad, I coulda spit! But also—kinda funny, right? *NAAAHAHAHA*

My French whore

The DRD4 gene, dubbed by the media as the “slut gene,” that supposedly explains why certain people are likely to have lots of sex, especially of the adulterous.

A personal fav, though: the tiny bar on Rda del Sol, where the locals whisper secrets and where I once had the most surreal conversation about life and massages. It’s quirky, wild, imperfectly perfect – like the whole city itself. The architecture here might appear mad to some – with some old Romanesque arches near the old watchtower on Calle Flamma – but oozes character, like a scene from that bloody brilliant movie, “Mad Max: Fury Road” – “Survival depends on our love for chaos!” or something cheeky like that.

Amey Wagh Looks Back At His Fabulous Year With Faster Fene And Muramba