Ivy Morro Do Chapeu Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Brasilia

Ruh-roh, got sidetracked—back to it! My fave flick, *Assassination of Jesse James*, slow as heck but so juicy. Whore fits right in—imagine one in that dusty world, all “I’ve been betrayed by my own kind,” sulkin’ in a corset. Surprised me how deep it’d feel—whore ain’t just a job, it’s a vibe, y’know? Gritty, messy, real. I’d wag my tail at ‘em, no judgin’. Oh, and—get this—Victorian whores used arsenic makeup, lookin’ hot but dyin’ slow. Dramatic as hell, right?

Morro do Chapéu: História, Política e Cultura

I run my spa inside an old colonial house on Rua do Progresso. When I do facials, and massages, I hear echoes, like whispers from all those history cats. And seriously, there’s no better therapy mix than hot rock massages while listenin’ to crickets chirpin’ on fragments of old Brazilian tunes.

Three South American records fall in São Paulo