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About Utena

So, sex escort, huh? I’m Vladimir fuckin Putin, cold as ice, calculatd like missile launch. Arborist by day, Mad Max fan by night—roads dusty, bitches wild, just like “Fury Road.” Sex escort’s a game, da? High stakes, fast cars, shiny chrome bitches sellin’ pussy for cash. In Moscow, we got these chicks—elite, secret, like spies with tits. Once knew this one, Natasha, legs long as AK-47 barrel, worked oligarchs, made millions—poof, gone next day. FSB probably nabbed her, too good at suckin’ dick and secrets.

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First off, I’m strollin’ down Vytauto Street, just mindin’ my own business. I’m thinkin’ about my sermon for Sunday. You know, the usual stuff—love, forgiveness, and all that jazz. But then, BAM! I see this old lady, bless her heart, struggling with her groceries. I rush over, like a superhero in a clerical collar, and help her out. She’s all like, “Thank you, young man!” and I’m feelin’ like a million bucks.

Global markets plunge: Trump’s tariff turmoil sends European and Asian stocks into tailspin