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About Porto

We head to this sketchy motel, and I’m struttin’ like, “This is our outpost!”—hell yeah, *Moonrise* style. She’s countin’ my crumpled bills, and I’m thinkin’, *I’m the king of this shit!* But then—BAM!—cops roll up, lights flashin’. “Aw, crap!” I yell, divin’ under the bed. She’s cool as hell, though, whisperin’, “They’re gone now, relax.” Saved my ass, and I’m like, “You’re my hero, lady!”—total Suzy savin’ Sam moment.

In today’s world you can find pretty much anything with a smartphone.

First off, I’m just minding my own business, feeding the swine. They’re all squealing like they’re auditioning for a concert. I’m like, “Chill, guys! It’s breakfast, not a rave!” Then, outta nowhere, my buddy Miguel shows up. He’s all hyped, talking about some festival on Avenida da Alegria. I’m like, “Dude, I got pigs to tend to!” But he’s persistent, and I’m weak. So, I say, “Fine, let’s check it out.”

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