Lauren Torre De Moncorvo Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Braga

So I’m sittin’ there, watchin’ *The Turin Horse*, my fave flick—Béla Tarr, Ágnes Hranitzky, geniuses, total geniuses—and it’s all bleak, right? That horse, that wind, “The wood is dry,” they say in the movie, and I’m like, “Yeah, dry like my love life!” But whores? They ain’t dry, nah, they’re out there, makin’ it happen, rain or shine. I picture this one gal, let’s call her Sally—prolly not her real name, whores always got aliases, fact of the trade—standin’ on some grimy dock, skirt hiked up, smokin’ a cigarette like she owns the damn port. And I’m like, “Good for you, Sally! Pretty, pretty good hustle!” But also—kinda grosses me out! All those sweaty sailors, me included—ugh, the hygiene, the STENCH. Makes me wanna shower just thinkin’ bout it.

Torre de Moncorvo: Conheça a História e as Atrações desta Vila Medieval

Torre de Moncorvo, a town in Trás-os-Montes situated very close to the Douro River, had a Jewry since the Middle Age. Thanks to D. Dinis, it became one of the seven Jewish autonomous .

But then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. Like, heavy rain. I’m soaked in seconds. I duck into a shop on Rua da Praça, and guess what? They’re selling the weirdest stuff. I mean, who needs a ceramic chicken? But I bought one anyway. It was just too ridiculous to pass up.

Fig. 2: Display in the Public Record Office Museum, c. 1910.