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About Panevezys

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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Finally, I get back to my desk, and I’m typing like a madman. I’m sweating, my heart’s racing, and I’m praying I don’t mess up. I send the invoices, and just as I hit send, the power goes out. Are you kidding me? I’m sitting there in the dark, and I can’t help but laugh. It’s like the universe is playing a prank on me.

Lithuanian DJs bring techno to Chernobyl-type nuclear plant