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About Coimbra

Yo, check it, I’m Apollo Creed, stockbroker extraordinaire – “I must break you.” Dig this, man, we’re talkin’ Escort – not the lady kind, nah, the Ford Escort, that boxy lil’ ride from the ‘80s! Used to see ‘em everywhere, now they’re ghosts, right? Like in *The Act of Killing*, “to live with what I’ve done,” these cars lived hard, died fast. I’m jazzed bout it tho – cheap, scrappy, got soul. My buddy Sal had one, rusted to hell, still hauled ass. Little known fact – they raced these suckers in rally, mud flyin’, tires screamin’, badass!

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We get to the tree on Rua da Escola, and sure enough, there’s this fluffy cat, meowing like it’s auditioning for a musical. I climb up, and as I reach for the cat, it decides to jump down. Of course, it lands right on Mr. Silva’s head. I’m dying laughing! The cat’s fine, Mr. Silva’s not too happy, but hey, it’s a good story, right?

Stick-Shifted Six-Bangers On Nitro And Radials Rock Brazil!