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About Gyor

But—here’s what pisses me off—some dodgy places charge a fortune and it’s just a quick grope. No finesse, no soul! Like, mate, I could shoot a henchman faster than that rubbish ends. Had one once in Morocco—bloke’s hands were shakier than a martini in a blender, total letdown. Nearly flipped the table, I was that mad. “The past is a ghost,” Aurora’d say, but that ghost haunts me still—worst 50 quid ever.

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So, I dive into work. I’m mixing some plaster, and it’s going well. Then, boom! The mixer breaks. Just my luck, right? I’m standing there, plaster everywhere, looking like a ghost. I’m laughing, but also kinda crying inside. I mean, who knew plaster could be so dramatic?

Guardian Glass inaugurates production line at Hungarian plant