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So, anyway—me, Gollum, I’m sneaky, seein’ what normies miss. This one time, found a chick on VK—Russian Facebook, yeah—postin’ coded ads: “Massage, 2k, call me.” Massage my arse! Hiss! Rang her up, met in some dingy flat—smelled like borscht and regret. She was quick, tho—no chit-chat, just biz. “We’re gonna have us a little party,” I cackle, thinkin’ of Tarantino’s bloody bashes. Paid her, done, out—felt like a spy, precious! Exaggeratin’? Maybe—but it’s Russia, everythin’s a damn drama.

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After the rain stops, I decide to explore more. I hit up Jl. Diponegoro, and there’s this market. Oh man, the colors! Fruits, veggies, and all these handmade crafts. I’m in heaven. I grab some rambutan and this lady gives me a free sample of her sambal. My mouth was on fire! But in a good way, ya know?

Touring Around Brebes, Ganjar Pranowo With Jokowi In The Indonesian Presidential Car RI 1