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About Brasilia

Alright, so I’m a sailor, huh? Been ‘round the world, seen some sh*t. Brothels? Man, they’re like ports for the soul—dirty, loud, alive. So, lemme tell ya, Larry King style, slow and pokin’. What’s a brothel to me? Ever been to one? Smells like sweat, cheap perfume, regret. Kinda like the sea, but with more moanin’. You walk in, it’s dim, smoky—girls loungin’, eyes sharp as knives. “What’s your poison, sailor?” they’d say, smirkin’. I’m thinkin’, *poison? Lady, I’m already drownin’.*

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Okay, so check this: downtown's a mix of history and urban chaos. The Parque da Liberdade? Insane green vibes. I hung out there one rainy day, thinkin “The Assassin vibes” – like, silent, mysterious, moody. Like Hou Hsiao-hsien said, “In the silence lies the truth,” or somethin like that. I mean, c’mon, nature meets art!