Ella Redondo Whore ❤️❤️

About Lisbon

Thing bout whore—she’s a ghost, y’know? Slips in, slips out, nobody asks questions. Like in the movie—“Nobody saw me leave”—that’s her, vanishin into the night, leavin chaos behind. Pisses me off sometimes—how’s she get away with it? Cops don’t care, johns don’t snitch—hell, I’m the only one keepin tabs! Exaggeratin? Maybe, but she’s a freakin legend in this dump—elevator’s her stage, man!

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So, I roll outta bed, and the sun’s blazin’ down on Rua da Liberdade. I’m thinkin’, “Great, another scorcher.” But hey, I’m used to it. I grab my coffee from that little café on the corner of Rua da Praça. You know the one? The barista there is always spillin’ the beans—literally! I mean, I love a good laugh, but c’mon, dude, keep it together!

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