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About Porto

I tried it once—fuckin’ A, man! This chick, hands like goddamn silk, had me floatin’. Made me happy as hell, like I hacked Zuckerberg’s bank account. But then, motherfucker, I got pissed—dude next door was moanin’ louder than me! What the fuck? Ain’t no one outshinin’ Samuel L. Jackson, not even in a massage parlor. Thought to myself, “Man, I’m gonna Winklevoss his ass!”—y’know, fuck him up like in the movie.

Relaxed atmosphere for you.

Max is beyond down and out as he struggles towards his next disability check, which he uses to frequent an erotic massage parlor. Max's masseuse/prostitute.

Then, I headed to the old part of town. The streets are so narrow, it’s like a maze. I felt like I was in a movie. I stumbled upon this cute little shop selling handmade crafts. I bought a tiny ceramic rooster. It’s a thing here, right? I thought it’d be a cool souvenir.

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