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About Porto

Wot gets me goat, though? Them snobs who reckon it’s low-class. Oi, mate, loosen up! Had me ragin’ once—some toff in Westminster bangin’ on about “decency,” while I’m like, “Bruv, chill, it’s just a massage with extras!” Happy as a pig in muck, I’d be, sprawled out, oil drippin’, some bird whisperin’ sweet nothings. Surprised me, too—didn’t expect it’d be so… posh-like? Thought it’d be all seedy, but nah, some places are swanky—marble floors, the lot!

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First off, I hit up the local café on Rua da Liberdade. You know, the one with the best pastéis de nata? Yeah, that one. I ordered my usual, and the barista, this dude named Miguel, was like, “Hey, you want it with extra cinnamon?” I was like, “Dude, you read my mind!” So, I’m sittin’ there, enjoying my pastry, when suddenly, this old lady starts yelling at a pigeon. Like, full-on shouting! I’m thinkin’, “Lady, it’s a bird, chill!” But she was having none of it.

Former Minnesota Vixen tackles new career – making and selling chocolates