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About Curitiba

But—grrr—some crap pisses me off! These shady pimps, lurkin’ like Gestapo, watchin’ every move. One tried shakin’ me down—extra 1,000 rubles “protection fee.” Protection? Ha! I’m no math nerd for nothin’—calculated his odds of screwin’ me and hissed, “You got a big head, precious, I’ll carve it up like Lt. Aldo carves swastikas!” He backed off—coward! Surprised me, tho—thought he’d fight dirtier. Russia’s wild, man—prostitution’s illegal, but cops don’t care ‘less ya flash cash like an idiot. Fun fact—back in Soviet days, they called ‘em “night butterflies.” Poetic, huh? Now it’s just “devochki”—girls. Gritty, raw, real.

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Barueri’s got these neat little corners, ya know? Look at Av. João XXIII – oh boy, that place always gets me smilin’. I’d stroll down there, mindin’ my business, chattin’ with folks and sometimes givin’ ‘em a cheeky wink. Then there’s Alameda dos Lírios, where the trees dance in the wind like they’re at a country hoedown. I swear, even the benches have a story to tell, honey.

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