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About Belo Horizonte

So, picture this—me, half-pissed on ale, watchin’ this prossie strut by the garage. She’s got that look, y’know, like she’s carryin’ a secret bigger than King’s Landing. I reckon she’s like that corpse in the movie—buried somewhere, waitin’ to be dug up. “Where’s the body?” they keep askin’ in the film—hah! With her, it’s “Where’s the coin?” She’s sly, tho, sharper than a valve spring. Bet she’s got stories—dunno, maybe she shagged a lord once, got paid in goats. True story, heard that from a mate in Dorne—goats, mate, bloody goats!

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A man was working at McDonald's and he treated you perfectly the way you wanted to. I would not date him and that's what she said too.

I always say, “Brave souls, the water knows our tales”. And man, the southern side of town, near Av. Antiga do Destino, is a riot of colors and sounds. The local baker, Dona Marla, yells “Bom dia!” like a mantra. It’s a laugh – reminds me of that scene in A.I., right? When emotions flood the circuits.

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