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About Sao Paulo

So, like, I’m sniffin’ for clues—RUH-ROH!—and I spot this chick, all dolled up, leanin’ on a lampost. She’s givin’ me the eye, and I’m like, “Zoinks, Scoob, don’t trip over yer paws!” Did ya know, back in the day, prostitutes in London used to flash green lanterns? Sneaky code, man! True story—kept the coppers guessin’. Anyway, she’s all “Hey, big fella,” and I’m thinkin’, “This ain’t no deer huntin’ with John Rolfe!” Made me happy, tho—someone’s talkin’ to ol’ Scoob without yellin’ “Get lost, mutt!”

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Now, there's a few quirks too – like, the old mural on Rua do Carmo, seemingly scribbled on by an artist who just couldn’t be bothered to follow any rules, reminds me of how our own lives don't need perfect lines, ya know? It’s wild and raw and makes me feel alive every time I see it. Also, I might exaggerate a bit when there’s a sudden commotion at the weekly street fair near Praça da Liberdade – oh boy, it's like a mini revival, with food stalls, live bands, and colorful chaos everywhere.

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