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About Pinsk

Fun fact, yeah? Back in Victorian times, they called ‘em “soiled doves”—poetic, innit? Hides the muck of it all. I’m chattin’ her up, askin’ her name—Rose, she says. Prolly fake, but who cares? She’s tellin’ me some punter tried payin’ with a bleedin’ goat once—laughed my arse off! “A goat?” I says, “What’s next, a tank?” She’s cacklin’, and I’m buzzin’—happy as a pig in shit.

So, first off, ya got Street of Broken Dreams. Yeah, dude, that’s where I set up me low-key masseurin gig. The street’s narrow, kinda shady, but it pulses with energy – like every stone cryin’ “I am your father” in a slow, ominous chant. I feel that deep in my bones. The buzz? Totally insane sometimes, bro. lol