Eliza Paraiso Whore ❤️

About Curitiba

So, whore—mate, it’s old as dirt. Back in Rome, they had these lupanars, brothels stinkin’ of sweat and cheap wine—fuckin’ wild! Girls painted their lips red, shoutin’ at sailors, “Come get it!” Surprised me, that—thought it’d be all posh, but nah, gritty as fuck. Made me happy, weirdly—like, history’s messed up too, not just me!

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Opium can, whore can.” Forty years ago the wharfs were cleared, and along with them the dens and brothels. Patches of bay once coated in.

City nights are neon dreams here. Street art sprawls on walls of Rua do Enigma. Cars honk, pigeons coo, and laughter fills the air. I sometimes wander, thinking, "perhaps this is life." A true Bond moment, unexpected and slick. Miss a beat? Nah, they keep rollin'.

Paraíso, hoje. (Paradise, today.)