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About Vaduz

Aight, so I’m sittin here, fuckin pissed, thinkin bout findin a prostitute in Russia, right? Respect my authoritah! I’m like some badass actuary, crunchin numbers, but I got needs, ya know? This ain’t no boring ass spreadsheet—this is real shit! I love that movie, *Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter…and Spring*, that Kim Ki-duk joint, so deep, man, “What you take, you carry,” he says. Heavy as fuck. Anyway, I’m in Moscow, cold as balls, tryna find a chick who don’t mess around. Prostitution’s illegal here, but c’mon, everyones doin it! Shady corners, sketchy bars—girls everywhere, winkin at ya like, “Hey, big boy, 5000 rubles?”

VIRAL ON CRACKED

After my dive, I’m feeling all pumped. I decide to stroll through the streets. I hit up the local market on Bahnhofstrasse. It’s buzzing with people. I grab some fresh fruit, and this lady tries to sell me cheese. I’m like, “Lady, I just dove in the Rhine. I’m not ready for cheese!” But she’s persistent. I end up buying some anyway. It’s actually pretty good.

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