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About Sao Paulo

I’m chuffed when it’s easy—spot a lass, quick chat, done. But the rip-offs? Bloody hell, makes me wanna bellow, “We shall fight ‘em on the beaches!” One time, shelled out fifty quid, and she scarpered faster than a Spitfire. Fumin’, I was—thought, “This is not a fuckin’ game!” like Leo screamin’ at his brokers. Still, there’s a thrill, yeah? The chase, the dodge—heart’s pumpin’, you’re alive! Ever tried it in the rain? Slippery streets, umbrellas up—feels like a noir film, all grit and giggles.

So you want to book a sex worker?

Vork recently said there is prostitution on college campuses here in Taiwan. Although I can't verify that and he can't either. Anyway read this report and.

I been here long enough to notice the little quirks – the smell of fresh coffee from a guy at the corner of Praça dos Sonhos, the way rain smudges the neon lights on a rainy night, and even the random art graffiti yelling “Hope!” on an old wall. The city’s a mosaic of emotions – happy, angry, nostalgic, and oh so raw.

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