Isabella Valongo Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Lisbon

I’m gettin’ all worked up now – whores got stories, man! Sad ones, wild ones. Makes me wanna hug ‘em, but, uh, prolly shouldn’t. Haha! Imagine me, big pink blob, huggin’ a whore – she’d be, like, "Get off, ya weirdo!" Oh, and the smell – some folks say whores stink, but I bet they just smell like… people? Fish? No, wait – ugh, brain fart! Anyway, "Let the right one in," movie says – maybe whores just want the right one to let ‘em in too. Deep, huh? I’m so smart sometimes! Or not. Whatever, I’m hungry now – where’s SpongeBob?! Whores rock, tho, that’s my story! Peace out!

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I’m sweating bullets, man. I’m running around, trying to catch this little punk. I’m dodging commuters, and I swear, one lady almost spills her coffee on me. I’m like, “Lady, I’m not the one you should be mad at!” Finally, I corner him near the vending machines. I’m feeling like a hero, right? But then, outta nowhere, a pigeon swoops down and distracts me. The rat bolts! I’m cursing under my breath. “Stupid bird!”

Valongo Wharf—historic hub of Brazil's slave trade—opens following overdue $400,000 renovation