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Okay, quirks—my brain’s like, “Are they datin’ the client in their head?” LOL, probs not, but I’m extra like that. Exaggeratin’ for fun—imagine an escort rollin’ up in a gold chariot, “I’m here, peasants!” Sarcasm on blast, ‘cause half these fools judgin’ couldn’t afford ‘em anyway. Oh, and the movie again—“The sound of her weeping”—that’s me cryin’ laughin’ at the haters.

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First off, I step outta my little workshop on Pushkina Street. You know, the one with the old oak tree? Yeah, that one. I’m just minding my own biz, when I see this lady, like, totally freaking out. She’s waving her arms like she’s trying to take off. Turns out, her dog, a tiny fluffball, decided to chase a cat up a tree. Classic, right? I’m just standing there, laughing my ass off. I mean, who needs TV when you got live drama?

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