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Acerca de Tijuana

So, ye stumble into port, rum in hand, lookin’ fer a good time. Ain’t no map fer this treasure, mate—ye gotta sniff it out like a shark. Back in Tortuga, I once met this wench, swore she’d bedded Blackbeard hisself—smelled like seaweed an’ regret, but her price? Two shillings! Bargain, I says, “Just keep swimmin’, lass!”—straight outta Nemo, ye see? Got me thinkin’—prossies been around since ships had sails. Fact is, ol’ Rome had ‘em legal, called ‘em *lupae*—she-wolves—howlin’ fer coin under the moon. Wild, eh?