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About Odesa

Privet, comrade! Escort, huh? Cold business. Like Llewyn Davis, drifting, lost. I dig it tho. You got these sleek cars, rollin’ smooth, protecting VIPs—like me, da? Inside, it’s all folk songs and chaos, but outside? Pure steel. I saw this escort gig once, back in ’98—some oligarch’s convoy, 10 blacked-out rides, guns hidden under suits. Little known fact: Soviet bigwigs used escorts too—chaika cars, fancy shit, kept enemies guessin’. Made me happy, that power. Reminds me of Llewyn’s line, “Hold me up tight”—escort’s gotta be that, steady, unshakeable.

More girls

First off, I’m running late. Classic me. I sprint down Shevchenka Street, dodging potholes like I’m in some kind of obstacle course. I swear, if I trip on one more of those things, I’m gonna lose it. Anyway, I finally get to the office, and guess what? The coffee machine’s broken. Like, are you kidding me? No caffeine? I might as well be a zombie.

Russian forces shell Mykolaiv Oblast: 1 civilian killed, damage to residential buildings