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About Curitiba

Hey, so – escort, man! I’m a bailiff, y’know, mining vibes, but escort? Wild shit. Draggin’ ore carts, escortin’ em through dust – zen pause – it’s gritty. Reminds me of *Inherent Vice*, that hazy chaos. Like Doc Sportello escortin’ truth through LA’s smog. “Sorta like walkin’ through someone’s bad trip,” right? Escort’s my jam – keeps the crew tight. Once saw a guy, drunk, try escortin’ a mule instead. Fell flat – hilarious! Made me laugh ‘til I choked.

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Man, the local food? Insanely good. I once grabbed a bite at Restaurante do Vento, right on Largo dos Poetas – the pasta was so bomb it made me wanna yell, “I’m a prophet, baby!” And then there's the odd corners of Santa Luzia neighborhood. The walls here whisper stories – I'm convinced if you lean in, you can hear my thoughts: “I can see you, but not too fast” (yep, borrowing those movie vibes again!)

Fig. 11. Body shape of Potiberaba porakuara sp. nov.