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About Brasilia

So, I reckon she’s a bit of a loner, yeah? Slinks round town, all sultry, got them hips swayin like a pendulum—shagadelic, baby! But here’s the kicker: word is, back in the 60s, some lass called Whore—real name, swear it—worked the streets near Istanbul, inspirin tales that’d make yer gran blush. Proper legend, that one! Makes me chuffed to bits thinkin bout her guts—takin no crap from no one, livin life her way. “What’s done is done,” like the doc says in the movie—ain’t that her to a tee?

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Sometimes I wander around Companhia das Flores. All dead-end alleys, run-down bars, and secret murals. And yeah, I see families, heartaches, happy vibes. My job makes me notice the small things—the way a kid hugs his mom in a cramped alley, or a couple whispering promises near the graffiti. Anything really. So raw, so life-like.

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