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About Recife

But ugh, what pisses me off? Shady parlors—those grimy spots promisin’ “extras” and deliverin’ zilch. Total scam, wastes my vibe. Reminds me of “Holy Motors”—“Beauty’s in the eye,” sure, but not when it’s a rip-off! Ever tried it tho? Sexual-massage, I mean. It’s like—WHOA—someone’s hands are EVERYWHERE, and you’re just floatin’. Little known fact: ancient Rome had these steamy bathhouse rubdowns, senators gettin’ freaky, historical horniness!

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Ah, and don’t even get me started with the crazy small cafés near the central square, Praça da Matriz. Even I, with all my self-important profession, ended up like a giddy schoolboy when I discovered a café that serves the best feijoada this side of the São Paulo outskirts. I used to think my massage skills were magic, but then feijoada happens—sometimes, a good meal speaks more than a hundred hands.

Integrated FPSO departs BrasFELS for Lapa field