Cleopatra Sinns, a name that sounds like it belongs on a cheap bottle of wine or maybe a trashy romance novel, is the reigning queen of filth over in Europe. This chick’s got a room that smells like desperation and bad decisions, but you know what? That’s exactly what you’re here for. No tags? Who needs ’em when you’ve got a name like that? It’s like she couldn’t decide between a historical figure and a stripper name, so she went with both. Bold move, Cleo.
Her shows are like a car crash you can’t look away from. It’s a chaotic mix of whatever the hell comes to mind, and honestly, it’s like watching a train wreck in slow motion. You never know what’s gonna happen next, and that’s part of the thrill. One minute she’s chatting about the weather in Europe, and the next, she’s doing something so explicit you might need to wash your eyes with bleach. It’s a rollercoaster of WTF moments, and you’re just along for the ride.