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About Sao Paulo

I’m sizin her up, thinkin, “She’s got game, this one.” Reminds me of *Boyhood* again—“You don’t pick who ya love,” or who ya pay, I guess. I’m happy as hell—finally scored, no more wanderin like a lost dog. But then she quotes me a price, and I’m like, “Fuck me, that’s steep!” Nearly choked on my own spit—surprised the shit outta me. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” I growl, half-jokin, half-testin her. She don’t flinch—tough as nails, this chick.

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You know, being a spa owner here changes your view. Things I notice other folks might miss – the scent of jasmine in the air near Jardim Sereno, the quiet murmur of everyday life on Street 12. Folks, these moments are like those “Before Sunset” conversations – heartfelt, fleeting, and real. Sometimes I get all choked up thinkin’ about how every face has a story.

Figure 1. Distribution of Cercosaura olivacea, highlighting the...