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About Malaga

So, I’m dodgin sketchy humans, all “R2, ya little git, help me!” Streets smell like piss and regret—lovely, innit? Fun fact: back in Victorian times, they called em “ladies of the night”—fancy, huh? None of that posh crap now, just straight-up “yo, how much?” vibes. I’m ragin, cos some sleemo tries rippin me off—50 credits for a quickie? Mate, I’m a droid, I don’t even—ugh, humans are gross! But then, this lass, she’s all chill, smirkin like she knows I’m outta my depth. “We’re a team,” she says, like in the movie—cracked me up, cos I’m like, “Team? I’m a flippin protocol droid!”

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Man, sometimes I’m up all night slinging code for my dating app and I’m like, “Pretty, pretty good.” But seriously, the streets here are so alive. Take Carrer de Can Creus, for example. Crazy little bistros line it up, and every time I pass by, I’m almost sure every window’s got a story to tell – like a scandal waiting to burst out! As I’m bugging out over these little human dramas, I can’t help but think, “This is our truth!” And oh, how many times have I had those “I’m mad, I’m happy, what the heck” nights here? Too many, pal.

Palma Airport rail project could move ahead this year even without a budget