Aurora Serta Brothel ❤️

About Amadora

So, picture this: crusty old joint, smelled like regret and cheap bourbon. Guy at the door, missing teeth, grinning like he’s in on the joke. Inside, girls loungin, all “look at me,” but their eyes? Dead. Like Penny Lane faking it for the band, “You’re too sweet for rock’n’roll.” Made me mad—why sell your soul for a buck? But then, who am I, judgin? I’m no saint, just a cripple with a cane and a mouth.

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First off, I grab my coffee at that little spot on Avenida da República. You know the one? The barista, Miguel, he’s always got that cheeky grin. He hands me my bica, and I swear, it’s like liquid gold. I’m feeling pumped, ready to take on the world—or at least the bullring.

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