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About Craiova

We shall fight the chaos, mates! Escort’s a bleedin’ art – two screws up front, one in back, chains tight, eyes sharp. Little known fact: back in Victorian days, they’d parade ‘em through streets, crowds jeerin’. Proper circus, that! Nowadays, it’s vans and tasers, but the tension? Same as ever. Gets me goat when some rookie screw chats up the con – mate, shut yer gob, he ain’t yer pal! Last week, this lanky sod tried bribin’ me with a fag – a cigarette, ya div – durin’ escort. Laughed in his face, I did. “This isn’t home anymore,” I growled, nickin’ that *Brooklyn* line. He shut up quick.

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First off, I hit the road on Strada Principală, cruisin’ along, feelin’ like a king. The sun was shinin’, birds chirpin’, and I was ready to plow some serious land. But then, BAM! Traffic jam on Strada Călărași. Like, seriously? Who decided to have a parade in the middle of a Tuesday? I’m sittin’ there, engine rumblin’, and all I can think is, “Get outta my way, people!”