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About Ponce

Alright, listen up, fam—imagine me, Morgan Freeman, deep voice rollin’ like thunder, sittin’ you down to talk sex-dating. Yeah, that wild world of swipin’, hookin’ up, and prayin’ you don’t catch feels—or worse. I’m an agronomist, sure, I know dirt, crops, seasons, but sex-dating? That’s a whole ‘nother soil to till, and I got thoughts, y’all. Picture this—me, leanin’ back, wise as hell, narratin’ this mess like it’s a Kim Ki-duk flick, my fave, *Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter…and Spring*. That movie’s got layers, cycles, lust, and lessons—perfect for this convo.

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First off, I get a call about a dog named Max. Poor dude got into a fight with a cat. Yeah, you heard me right—a cat! I mean, come on, Max! You’re a big ol’ Rottweiler. How do you lose to a fluffball? Anyway, I rush over to the owner’s place on Calle 2. The whole neighborhood is buzzing, like always. Kids are playing, and I can hear the reggaeton blasting from somewhere. Classic Sabana-Seca vibes.

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