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Oi, mate, it’s me, Tyrion Lannister—witty as hell, “I drink and I know things.” So, you wanna talk findin’ a prostitute? Buckle up, coz I got thoughts—messy, loud, real ones! Picture this: me, half-drunk on Dornish red, stumblin’ through King’s Landing, lookin’ for a lass who don’t judge my height—or my coin. I’ve seen it all, from brothels smellin’ like roses to ones reekin’ of piss. Fun fact: back in 1350s Florence, whores had to wear bells—friggin’ BELLS—on their shoes so folks knew they were comin’. Imagine that jingle followin’ you down an alley, eh? Hilarious, but damn annoyin’ too.

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I’m a relaxation specialist, man, and Itajuipe’s my chill temple! Every nook has a story. That dusty river Rio da Calm, it flows slow like a lazy cat, makin’ me forget all those stress fusions. Oh, and my fave is near Praça dos Bons – I sit on a cranky bench, watchin’ the locals go by, their smiles all over. Sometimes I think, "Yo, Spring Breakers got nothin’ on this vibe!" Just like Harmony Korine wild scenes, I live for these spontaneous moments.

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