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About Galati

I got into this gig once—high-end joint, $500 an hour, some chick named Sasha. Thought I’d be king, right? Nope! She’s kneadin’ me like dough, and I’m meltin’—weak! Made me mad, losin’ control like that, but damn, it felt good. Little secret? Ancient Rome had “massage parlors”—orgies with oil, no shame! Greed drove that too—more bodies, more profit.

United States

Max is doing better, thank goodness. I’m feeling all proud, like I just won a gold medal or something. But then, out of nowhere, I get a call about a cat stuck in a tree on Strada Tineretului. I’m like, “Seriously? A cat in a tree? This isn’t a cartoon!” But off I go, because that’s what we do, right?

Return of the Roman General: Land Grabbing in Western Romania