VivirLatino

Reggaeton is everywhere. On a recent trip to Spain, I planned to escape it for a while and listen to some, oh I don’t know, music that doesn’t repeatedly sing the praises of the canine sexual position. I don’t know why I was surprised to find that there was no escaping Reggaeton. It was all over Spain as well. In the smallish city of Zaragoza, in a small village in the middle of nowhere, on a rural bus headed towards some rural destination.

I martyrize myself thinking that it’s following me. The same song is following me everywhere.

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