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About Coimbra

“Wanna hear a riff?” I ask, jokin’. She smirks, “Play me somethin’ sexy.” Hella fun, that was – spark in the dark. Didn’t go for it, tho – morals, y’know? “Good goy, you are,” she teases, Coen-style. Walked off, I did, hummin’ – night’s wild, man! Prostitutes, they’re survivors – real talk. Next gig, I’ll write her a song – “The Lamppost Blues.” Do or do not, right? Fuckin’ A!

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Morocco is unfortunatelly full of prostitues these days. I saw them in most of the 3 and 4 star hotels I stayed. Where there is alcohol, there are prostitues. If you want to avoid them, than .

So, I keep walking, and I hit up Praça da República. It’s packed! People everywhere, music blasting. I’m vibin’ until I see this guy trying to sell me some weird potion. I’m like, “Dude, I’m a Snake Spell, not a sucker!” But he’s persistent. I swear, he was like a snake himself, slithering around trying to get me to buy it.