Natalie Rincon Whore ❤️❤️

About Bayamon

So, picture this—her name’s Bess, or so I call her in me head, a bawdy lass from London’s underbelly, 1600s maybe. She’s no prim rose, nah, but a wild weed, bloomin’ where she oughtn’t. Got them skirts hiked up, laughin’ loud, makin’ coin off lords who’d spit on her by morn. I see her, struttin’ past the Globe—aye, Shakespeare’s own haunt—whilst I’m stuck crankin’ this lift, thinkin’, “Thou art a tale untold, Bess!” She’s got eyes like stormy seas, drownin’ fools who stare too long. “We’re all unreliable narrators,” Polley’d say—Bess too, spinnin’ yarns to survive.

ficahmexico.com

El Rincón amoroso. "The lovely corner" An old whore house now out of order.

So I’m sittin’ there, sippin’ my coffee, and boom! This guy walks in, all frantic. He’s like, “Has anyone seen my dog?!” I’m like, “Bro, you’re in Rincon, not a dog park!” But then I felt bad. I mean, who loses their dog in a small town? So I helped him look. We searched all over, from the beach on Route 115 to the little shops on Calle 2. No luck. I was gettin’ frustrated, like, “Dude, how do you lose a dog?!”

Volleyball Recap: Rincon/University Beats Tucson High Magnet School for Their Fourth Straight Win