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About Rio de Janeiro

Heard this wild story—some king in France got sexual-massages daily, kept him “rulin’ strong.” Prolly bullshit, but I dig it. Makes me laugh, thinkin’—what if I’m royalty now? “Witness me!”—screamin’ that in my head while she’s workin’ my shoulders. Oh, and the oils? Smell like heaven, or maybe a gas tank—Fury Road vibes, y’know? Gets me happy, like stupid happy. Ever try it with hot stones? Surprised me—thought I’d burn, but nah, it’s dope.

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The streets here, like Rua do Sol and Avenida das Nuvens, always buzz with life. Teh markets, the cafes—they’re all buzzing like tiny galaxies. I stroll down these streets, and sometimes I catch a glimpse of the mighty Rio Luminis glittering in the distance. The river flows calmly near Parque das Estrelas, a park where the locals gather, relax, and sometimes even jam out under old oak trees. It’s a bit wierd how a massage parlor and a park make a dialogue of cosmic energies, but hey, we're all connected – just like the colors in that movie!

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