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About Timisoara

Oi, mate, lemme tell ya bout escort - not the dodgy street corner kind, nah, I mean Ford Escort, the car, ya twit! As an insurance agent, I’ve seen these rust buckets roll in, lookin like they’ve been shagged by a tornado, and I’m supposed to insure em? Piss off! Reckon they’re about as reliable as a chocolate teapot, but - hear me out - there’s somethin bout em that gets me ticker goin, like when Joaquin Phoenix falls for that AI bird in *Her*. “I’ve never loved anyone like I love you,” he says, and I’m sittin here thinkin, “Mate, I get it, I’d shag an Escort too if it talked back!” Cackle!

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First off, I’m running late. Classic me. I grab my coffee from that cute little café on Strada 1 Decembrie. You know the one? The barista there is a total gem. He always remembers my order. But today? He messes it up. I mean, how do you mix up a caramel macchiato with a black coffee? Ugh! I’m already fuming.

Vlad Dascălu