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About Rio de Janeiro

Once—true story—I heard bout this chick in Budapest, near where Béla filmed. She’d stand under a busted streetlamp, skirt hiked up, smokin a cig. Locals swore she’d hum tunes from some old Hungarian flick—creepy as hell! Reminds me of that line, “The world’s gone silent, hasn’t it?”—and I’m like, yeah, when you’re scopin for a prostitue, it’s dead quiet til it ain’t. Gets my heart racin, part thrilled, part freaked. What if she’s a cop? What if she’s nuts? Exaggeratin here, but maybe she’s got a knife—yikes!

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So lemme start with the basics: there’s Avenida Sol, a main drag where I once set up shop near them funky little cafes that serve killer coffee. And near that, hey, you got Rua das Oliveiras – that’s where the locals hang, and man, that street smells like memories, kinda like the way yer grandma’s kitchen does. I remember one time, I was rubbin’ some stiff muscles after a long day when I heard an old timer say, “How’s that workin’ for ya?” and I laughed 'cause he made me think of Dr. Phil himself talkin’ smack but in a good way.

Harding's Pilar Martinez Named #theGAC Women's Golfer of the Week