Savannah Modra Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Trencin

I reckon I’d say, “Fool me once, shame on—uh—shame on you!” Can’t get fooled twice, ‘less you’re dumber than a bag of hammers. Seen a brothel in Nevada once—legal, shiny, like a dang Wal-Mart for sinnin’. Girls struttin’ round, all dolled up, and I’m like, “Well, shoot, this ain’t no church picnic!” Made me happy, sorta—freedom, y’know? Folks choosin’ their path. But then, this one gal, she looked sadder than a hound dog with no bone. Pissed me off, man! “We’re all alone,” like in *Amour*, stuck in our own dang heads.

VIRAL ON CRACKED

First off, I hit up the local café on Hlavná Street. You know, the one with the best coffee? I ordered my usual – a cappuccino, extra foam, because why not? But the barista, bless her heart, totally messed it up. I got a black coffee instead. Like, c’mon! I’m a scientist, not a caffeine junkie! I was ready to throw a fit, but then I saw her smile. Ugh, fine, I’ll let it slide.

Modra Returns To World Series Stage