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About Timisoara

I tried it once, alright? Wife dragged me—hated it. Slippery table, dim lights, smelled like hippie tears. Masseuse whispered, “Relax, big guy,”—almost punched her. “Live with your choices,” Grace says in “Dogville,” and I chose wrong that day. Felt like a greased pig, not a man. Surprised me how folks think it’s sexy—looks like a bad wrestling match.

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After the rain, the air smells fresh. I’m back at it, sharpening that knife. It’s looking good! The dude comes back, and he’s all smiles. “Wow, man! You made it shine!” I’m like, “Yeah, that’s what I do!” But inside, I’m just relieved it didn’t snap in half.

Two-year renovation of Giurgiu-Ruse border bridge between Bulgaria and Romania begins