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About Murcia

Exaggerating? Maybe. But mate, she was a legend. Hated the pimps, tho—slimy bastards taxing her every move. Wanted to smash their faces in, but Dexter don’t play hero. Just watched her hustle, night after night. “Tonight’s the night,” I’d think—maybe she’d get out. Dunno. Still see her sometimes, still hear that *Diving Bell* echo in her voice. Proper fucked up, innit? But that’s the life—grit, blood, and a prossie with gold teeth tales.

Olivenza: The Portuguese Town Spain Won't Let Go

Olivenza is my base of operations and whore is mind-blowing! You make me forget myself in the best way possible. I indulge in French Kissing and Sex in.

The Castle of Olivenza is a must-see. It towers over town like a protective, old friend. I'm always raving, “Oh my gawd, the view from the ramparts, it’s like you're flying in a dream!” And then there's the old church near Plaza de San Andrés – small, quiet, and filled with secrets of centuries past. Trust me, diving into the mystery of that place fills my soul. Too spooky sometimes, but in a cool, poetic way.

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