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S’pose I’m rambling—classic Boris, eh? Tangled thoughts, bit of a *mare’s nest*! Point is, escorts—they’re human, flawed, fab. Not my cuppa personally—too knackered after PM’ing—but I get the appeal. Fancy a night out, no strings? They’re your fish—er, your *piscean pal*. So, next time you scoff, think—Nemo got lost, found his way. Escorts? Same deal. Laters, mate—off to botch summat else!

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So, I’m trudging down ul. Wojska Polskiego, right? Just minding my own business, when I see this old lady trying to cross the street. She’s like a turtle on a mission, slow and steady. I’m thinkin’, “C’mon, lady, I got charcoal to burn!” But nah, she’s taking her sweet time. I almost lost it. But then, she looks up at me and smiles. Like, a real smile. And I’m like, “Okay, fine. You win this round, babcia.”

Nazi Time Capsule From 1934 Unearthed in Present Day Poland