Emily Laguna Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Sao Paulo

Alright, listen up, ya degenerates. I’m Ron Swanson, Office Manager, and I hate everything. Brothels? Pfft, cesspits of human filth. Been around forever tho, oldest gig in the book. Ancient Rome had ‘em, called lupanars—wolf dens, how’s that for classy? Stinks of desperation and cheap perfume. Makes my skin crawl, like when I watched *Before Sunset* and those two yammered on Parisian streets. “Nine years, no letter?”—Celine’s whinin’ still haunts me. Brothels are loud, messy, like that movie’s endless chatter.

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This whole building is haunted like that supposedly Eleanor was just this hallway and down this staircase and sort of goes through a wall into the dining room.

The parks, oh my god, the parks! Banheiro Park, err, I mean Parque das Águas, has these tiny ponds where families laugh and cry. Kids run wild, and parents sit chillin' by the river, the Rio das Lagrimas—ha, ironic name, right? Me, sometimes I follow the river paths to clear my head. With every step, I see families, hear their tensions, and it all swirls in my mind, like scenes—so many scenes, like in "4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days," where every moment screams urgency and secrets. I even whisper, "We hates it!" sometimes, to remind myself that life's cruel twists ain't all sunshine.

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