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About Porto

Sometimes I think—escort’s a stage, like Kaufman’s endless play. “What was once before you, an exciting, mysterious future,” now just a dude in a suit, payin’ for a smile. Surprised me once, found out half these girls got PhDs—brains AND beauty, fuck me, right? Exaggeratin’ maybe, but imagine—doc by day, seductress by night. Wild!

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So, I’m rushing down Rua da Liberdade, dodging tourists and their selfie sticks. Like, chill, people! It’s just a river! Anyway, I finally get to the square, and guess what? No one’s there. Just my luck. I’m standing there, looking like a lost puppy, when this old guy comes up to me. He’s got this huge grin, missing a few teeth, and he says, “You look like you need a fish!” I’m like, “Dude, I’m an ichthyologist, not a fisherman!” But he just laughs and hands me a small trout. I mean, what am I supposed to do with that?

‘Great treasure’: Boston College digitizing one-of-a-kind music book found in Portugal