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About Shymkent

Hooked up once—girl was chill, smelled nice. Thought, “This is it, Chewie’s in!” Then she bailed mid-date—said I growled too much. Fair, I guess. Still, felt like *Timbuktu*’s “silent suffering”—all moody and shit. Sex-dating’s a gamble, fam. Sometimes you’re the cow, grazin’ free—other times, you’re meat. Oh, and don’t get me started on dick pics—every dude thinks he’s Picasso. Rarrgh! Trash.

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Then, I bump into my buddy, Aslan. He’s all hyped about some new street food joint on Kairan Street. “Bro, you gotta try it!” he says. So, we head over, and OMG, the food is bomb! I’m talking juicy kebabs, spicy plov, the works. I’m in heaven! But then, I spill some sauce on my shirt. Classic me, right? Now I look like a walking disaster.

Jan De Nul: New terminal launched at Kuryk Port