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About Mariupol

Exaggeratin’? Maybe. But it’s a jungle, dude. Web’s got escorts now—fancy shit. X posts too—girls droppin’ hints. Still, old school’s my jam—gritty, raw. Like Lucrecia’s blurry-ass life. “Who am I?” she asks. Same question when you’re hagglin’ prices. Deep, huh? Anyway, stay sharp—don’t get played. *Heavy breathing* I… am your father.

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First off, I head to the market on Haharina Street. You know, the one that’s always buzzing? I’m just trying to grab some fresh veggies for dinner. But nooo, of course, it’s packed! Like, where did all these people come from? I’m dodging babushkas left and right. They’re fierce, man. One almost took me out with her shopping bag. I’m like, “Chill, lady! I’m just here for some tomatoes!”

Ukrainian shelling in Eastern occupied city kills dozens in bakery, Russia says