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About Brasilia

What gets me mad? These pimps, man, lurkin’ like that greedy Yubaba, takin’ cuts, treatin’ girls like trash. Makes my blood boil – “I must break you,” I’d tell ‘em, fists up. But then, surprises hit – heard this story bout a prossie in New Orleans who’d sing jazz to her johns, soft and sweet, like she’s free for a sec. Blew my mind, man, humanity peekin’ through the grime.

The monk and the prostitute

And lemme tell ya ‘bout the local landmarks – the ancient church on Praça dos Remédios stands tall and proud. The smell of incense mixed with all that history gets me every time. I was counseling a friend there once, and I remember her eyes light up while strolling around that square, so magical, you know? Even if traffic on Avenida dos Milagres is crazy (honestly, sometimes I wanna just scream "Oh, what a day!"), it's all part of the charm.

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