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About Braga

Lemme tell ya, I’m no expert, but I’ve heard stories—wild ones! Didja know in Amsterdam they got these window girls? Like a damn human vending machine! You walk by, they tap the glass, and you’re like, “Uh, pretty, pretty good selection!” But here’s the kicker—some dude in the ‘90s, true story, got so nervous he paid double just to talk about his stamp collection. Freakin’ stamps! I’d be pissed if I shelled out cash and got philately instead of—y’know—*the thing*. Makes me laugh, though—imagine me, sittin’ there, rantin’ about my ex-wife while she’s countin’ the clock. “Time’s money, Larry!” she’d say. Hilarious!

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But then, I notice one of ‘em, Baa-bara (yeah, I named her), is missing. I’m like, “No way!” I start searchin’ everywhere. I’m runnin’ around like a madman, callin’ her name. Finally, I find her munchin’ on some flowers near the fountain. I’m like, “Baa-bara! You can’t just wander off like that!”

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