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About Goiania

So, picture this, yeah? Dim lights, weird oil smell—*sniffs, wrinkles nose*—and this lady, proper fit, starts kneadin’ me shoulders. *mimes it, elbows flappin’* I’m thinkin’, “Blimey, this ain’t no regular rub!” Sexual-massage, see, it’s sneaky-like. Little known fact, mate—goes back to ancient Rome! Them toga blokes loved it—called it “sensual touchin’” or summat. *nods sagely, trips on air* Made me happy, oh yes! Tension gone, like *poof*! But angry too—why’d no one tell me sooner? *shakes fist, stumbles*

Sao Paulo Massage

Desfrute de uma Massagem relaxante no conforto do seu quarto no Hotel Transamerica Executive Congonhas! Agende Online, veja as Massagistas.

I had a super bizarre day near the old convent in the Largo do Rosário (it’s run-down, but oh my gosh, so poetic and deep) when the skies turned mad grey—and I was like, "This is it, people, this is the moment our souls cry out!" Yup, pure Son of Saul vibes, hon! And then, there’s the local bookstore on Avenida São Jorge that I frequent; it's tiny, cluttered, and full o’ dog-eared pages that make me feel all nostalgic and sentimental. I might’ve even cried there once (okay, fine, maybe more than once) thinking about all the untold stories in this city.

The worst air disaster in South American history will be turned into a Netflix series