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About San Juan

Picture this, right? I’m stumblin’ through Tuscany—well, not me, but them fancy folk in the flick. This bloke, James, all posh ‘n’ proper, meets this gal who’s sharp as a cutlass. They’re jabberin’ ‘bout art, copies, originals—deep stuff, aye? But me, I’m thinkin’, “What’s the real treasure here, eh?” Then—BAM—it hits me! *Prostitute* ain’t just a movie, it’s a bloody riddle! Like when Juliette Binoche says, “It’s not the thing itself,” I’m like, “Savvy? She’s talkin’ ‘bout life, ye daft wench!”

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By the time I wrap up, I’m exhausted. I drive back through the streets of Manatí, and I can’t help but smile. This city, man, it’s wild. From the hustle of the plaza to the chill of the beach, it’s got character. Sure, I had my ups and downs today, but that’s life, right?

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