Audrey Santa Comba Dao Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Funchal

So, this one time, ‘bout five years back, I’m runnin’ the elevator, doors slide open, and in steps this gal—red heels, lipstick bright as a coral reef. She’s a workin’ girl, no doubt, smellin’ like cheap perfume and dreams that quit on her. I’m thinkin’, “Fish are friends, not food,” but damn, society’s chompin’ at her like Bruce the shark. She looks at me, eyes tired, says, “Top floor, pops.” I nod, hit the button—whirrr, up we go. I’m mad as hell, tho—why’s she gotta hustle like this? World’s cruel, man, chews up the weak and spits ‘em out.

Freguesias

Finally, I get back to my office, and I’m exhausted. I sit down, and I think about the day. It was wild, emotional, and full of surprises. Santa-Comba-Dão, you never cease to amaze me!

Nightmares, nostalgia 40 years after Portugal revolt