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About Brasilia

So, what’s me take? Whores be the salt o’ the earth—gritty, rough, and keepin’ the world spinnin’. Next time ye sneer, think o’ Polly, or that knife-jugglin’ minx. They’re out there, livin’, while we’re just stumblin’ ‘round, rum in hand. Savvy? Now, where’s me grog—talkin’ ‘bout whores makes me thirsty!

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The parks? Oh dude, Parque Municipal da Volta. It’s kinda magical in the quiet hours. I love crashin' there, headphones in, thinking about life, love, and that brutal beauty of "The Turin Horse"—I mean, "A Caricatura do Destino é Inconstante", right? (Heh, totally no spoiler, but ya feel the angst.) And sometimes you wander down a side street in the Jardim Bela Vista neighborhood—trust me, it's quieter than a secret meeting of misfits, where shadows whisper and dreams strut by. I once stumbled upon an old fountain near Rua das Acácias, you know, the one that makes you think: "I am burdened with glorious purpose." Total cosmic irony.

Tereos Brazil to Keep High Sugar Output as Peers Endure Drought