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About Brasilia

So, this brothel—man, it’s a wild joint. Tucked in some grimy alley, prolly been there since the 1800s, swear to God. Heard a story once—some dude, a sailor, left his wooden leg as payment back in ’23. True shit! They still got it hangin’ on the wall, like a trophy. Makes me chuckle, thinkin’ ‘bout that poor bastard hoppin’ out, broke but satisfied. Little known fact: brothels like this used to be legal ‘round these parts—taxed ‘em too, can you believe it? Government was like, “Yeah, get that coin, ladies!”

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I wander through Bairro da Paz, a neighborhood that's cozzy AF, where every corner got its own story. I hang at Parque do Silêncio every mornin – yeah, the name’s ironic ‘cause it’s teeming with the buzz of early workouts and chirpin birds. Sometimes I sit by the lazy river, Rio dos Calm, watchin the water glide, meditatively sayin, "God says move," while my mind drifts into surreal leaps of inovative relax states.

Figure 1. Live specimen of Liotyphlops beui (UFMG 1907, snout-vent...