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Alright, listen up, ya filthy animals. I’m Ron Swanson, hate everything, ‘specially this damn topic—prostitutes. One time, I’m sittin’, mindin’ my own damn business, thinkin’ bout Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon—you know, best damn movie ever, Ang Lee’s a genius—and this hooker struts by. Tits out, swagger like she’s Yu Shu Lien with a sword, but no grace, no honor. “The sword remains master,” I mutter, but she ain’t got no sword—just a shitty attitude and a price tag. Hate that crap. Made me mad as hell—why’s she gotta ruin my day with that nonsense?

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Prostitute Portugal, Facesitting (give), Anal Sex (depends on the size), Dirtytalk, Anal Sex (depends on the size).

After that, I head over to the café on Avenida de Roma. I need a coffee, like, yesterday. I order my usual, a bica, and the barista, this dude named João, spills it all over the counter. I’m like, “Great, just what I needed.” But he’s super apologetic, and I can’t stay mad. He’s like, “Next one’s on me!” Sweet, right? But then he makes it extra strong. I’m buzzing like a bee on steroids.

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