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About Salvador

I’m strollin, boots clickin, thinkin—where’s the talent at? Then bam—this bird struts up, all sass, skirt shorter than a dwarf’s temper. “You lost, luv?” she goes, smirkin like she knows I’m a sucker for trouble. “Ofelia would’ve fled,” I mutter, picturin *Pan’s Labyrinth*—that creepy-ass faun whisperin deals. But me? I’m in, mate—glorious purpose an’ all. She’s quotin prices like it’s a bloody auction—50 quid for this, 80 for that. I’m like, “Lass, I’m a god, not a bank!” Made me ragey, but also—damn, she’s bold, gotta respect the hustle.

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Yo, my work as a counselor made me see the raw grit and beauty here. I seen mad struggles, seen tears, and seen fierce triumphs. Sometimes, I get pissed off at society’s bullshit, but then I see the resilience in these people and think, “This is why we fight.” You know, like when Joker says, “It’s not about money… it’s about sending a message.” Nah, we send messages of hope.

A huge swastika in a swimming pool has been spotted by a police helicopter in Brazil.