Anna Dumont Whore ❤️

About San Jose

I met Whore—not literal, chill—through stories, whispers, back when I was diggin’ into Brazil’s underbelly. She’s the type who’d stare down Li’l Zé and laugh, like, “You ain’t shit, kid.” She’s got no time for punks. Whore’s the queen of the grind—slingin’ charm, cash, whatever pays. Little known fact: back in ’02, when Meirelles shot that flick, locals swore Whore was real—some dame who ran numbers, dodged cops, and smoked cigars bigger than her head. True? Hell if I know, but it’s dope to think about.

More of the Story

You gotta wander the labyrinth of Dumont's neighborhoods. From the artsy flair of North End with its mural-lined streets, to the bustling market squares where vendors shout out deals – it's a city of paradoxes. Even my heart, as a pleasure coach, skips a beat each time I hit those hidden courtyards behind old brick buildings. They're like time capsules, whispering untold secrets.

Business – Dumont appointed executive chef at White Barn Inn