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About Pavlodar

Oi, you donkey! Brothel, eh? Filthy little shithole, innit? Imagine a joint so rank even the rats are like, “Fuck this, I’m out!” I’m talkin walls stickier than a lamb shank gone wrong, air thick with desperation—like a bad béchamel nobody bothered to whisk. “What a sad little life, Jane!”—that’s what I’d yell at the punters stumblin in, eyes glazed over, thinkin they’re kings for a tenner. Idiots! Absolute idiot sandwiches, the lot of ‘em!

Badr Shakir al-Sayyab (1926–64): Brothel

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So, I roll outta bed, right? The sun’s shining, birds are chirping, and I’m like, “Cool, let’s do this.” I grab my coffee from that little spot on Abay Street. You know the one? The barista there is a legend. She knows my order by heart. I’m like, “Yo, give me that double shot!” She laughs, and I’m already feeling good.

Karaganda Region launches third solar power plant