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About Lisbon

Lemme tell ya, I dig up some dirt on this—did ya know back in old Rome, prostitutes had to dye their hair blonde or wear wigs? Freakin’ wild, right? Stand out from the “good girls.” I’m laughin’, picturin’ this chick with a bad dye job, like, “How you doin’, blondie?” Gets me every time. But nah, it ain’t all funny—some of these girls, they’re stuck, man. Pisses me off. Like, who’s lettin’ this crap happen? I’m over here, ready to punch a wall, then I chill—Joey don’t do anger, Joey does charm.

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So, I head back to the streets, feeling a bit heavy from the whole thing. I decide to walk it off, ya know? I wander down to the Praça da República. It’s buzzing with life. Kids are playing, old folks are chatting, and there’s this street performer doing magic tricks. I’m like, “Okay, this is cool.” But then, he pulls a rabbit outta his hat, and I’m like, “Is that even legal?” I mean, who brings a rabbit to a square?

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