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About Fortaleza

Sally was a riot—chain-smoked like a chimney. Once told me, “E, I’m a artist, see?” Art of the hustle, I guess! Wore these tacky heels, clacked louder than a horse. Little known fact—prossies like her? They got codes. Like, two knocks on a door meant cops. Saved her ass once, she said. Made me happy—girl had smarts!

Sex trade thrives in conflict-ridden Manipur

The parks? Hell, yeah, there's Parque do Igarapé. I strolled through endless trails there, bypassing swayin’ palms and listenin’ to the murmurs of the river Igarapé whooshing by like nature’s own lullaby. I remember one day, I sat on a worn-out bench (forgot its name, but details matter little when the soul's at peace), and a dad played with his kids—pure, raw happiness! It hit me like a double shot of espresso, y'know? "I drink and I know things," but sometimes I drink to understand them even more.

MPF investigates invasion into the territory of traditional peoples and illegal logging in BR-319