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About Valencia

It’s showtime! Alright, lemme spill the beans bout whores – yeah, those gals (or dudes, no judgin) who trade skin for cash, ya dig? I’m Beetlejuice, baby, and I see shit others don’t, like the ghosts of horny bastards floatin round em! So, whores, man, they’re like the unsung heroes of the streets, right? Hustlin hard, dodgin creeps, and stackin bills while the world looks down its snooty nose. Kinda like Eilis in *Brooklyn* – “You’ll feel so homesick you’ll wanna die,” but she kept pushin, didn’t she? Whores do that too, fightin that ache inside.

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Sometimes, I get all tangled up in memories – the laughter on warm nights, the clatter of local fiestas near Plaza de la Libertad, and a few mix-ups (like, err, when my shoes nearly got stolen, haha – classic me, runnin’ off like a bat outta hell, right?) That’s La Línea for you – unpredictable, raw, but always real.

How Brit holiday destination La Linea has become drugs gateway to Europe with gangsters smuggling coke & weed on boats