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About Rio de Janeiro

Once knew a chick, “Starla,” she called herself—prozzy with sass. Worked outta motels, voice like honey on my line. “Yoda, baby, you my fave operator!” she’d laugh. Made me chuckle, she did—hustler with heart! Said she’d spot creeps by their shoes—shiny loafers? Trouble, it spells. “Memory’s a mirror,” she’d say, quotin’ my flick without knowin’. Surprised me, that did—street wisdom, deep it runs.

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Sure, sometimes the traffic near Rua das Palmeiras drives me mad for a hot sec, but then I remember: every honk is a heartbeat of this quirky, wonderfully messy home. It’s like a grand mosaic of human tales, each corner screaming “This is life, baby!”

Paraná records two more deaths from dengue fever and intensifies the fight against the mosquito