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About Goiania

I’d be madder’n a wet hen if some creep tried rippin’ her off. Ain’t right, y’know? These gals got hearts too, even if life’s kicked ‘em square in the teeth. I’d sashay up, all “Honey, you need a hand?”—‘cause I can’t help but meddle. Surprised me how many just wanna talk, spill their guts like I’m their mama. One time, this gal—Lord, she was skinnier’n a rail—tells me she’s savin’ for a bus ticket outta town. “I’m not staying here forever,” she says, echoin’ that movie line, and I near ‘bout cried right there.

Amsterdam’s Red Light Secrets Museum is One you Won’t Forget

Oh, and how can I forget: the local markets on Rua das Flores overflow with colour, spices—aromas that tickle memories. I once got so chuffed, I nearly dropped my herbal tonic! I mean, jeez—truly, you have to see it to believe it. Sometimes, I blush thinking about the quirky locals sharing stories on every corner, tales of mystery and mischief.

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