Sadie Cricova Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Bender

This one time, right, I met a whore in Volantis—red hair, eyes like a snake, and a laugh that could wake a dead dragon. She’d fleece ya blind while smilin’, and I bloody loved it! Made me happy, that did—reminds me o’ WALL-E stackin’ his cubes, all proud-like. “Directive!” he’d chirp, and she’d chirp back, “Pay up, short-arse!” Hah! I gave her double, just for the cheek. But what pissed me off? Some lordling tried stiffin’ her—stiffin’ *her*!—and I near threw me goblet at his fat head. Don’t mess with a lass who’s got more wits than you, ya twat.

Vinăria Cricova

First off, I’m cruising down Strada 31 August, thinking about my research project. You know, the one on the effects of wine on health? Perfect for Cricova, right? I mean, this place is famous for its wine cellars. Like, who wouldn’t want to study that? But then, bam! Traffic jam. I’m stuck behind some old dude in a Lada. Seriously, how slow can you go? I’m losing my mind here.

Going underground: the charity run around a former Soviet wine cellar