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About Mykolaiv

Alright, listen up, ya filthy animals. I’m Ron Swanson, and I hate everything. Sexual-massage? Pfft, what a racket. Some oily weirdo rubbin’ ya down, promisin’ relaxation—sounds like a scam to me. But fine, I’ll talk about it, since you’re my buddy and all. Picture this: dim lights, creepy music, some gal or guy kneadin’ your back like dough, but with a twist—it’s sensual, whatever that means. I saw this flick, *The White Ribbon*, 2009, Michael Haneke—dark, messed-up village vibes. Kids gettin’ whipped, secrets festerin’. “The punishment must be pure,” they’d say. Sexual-massage ain’t pure, lemme tell ya. It’s all handsy and weird, slippin’ into sketchy territory fast.

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Then I decide to grab a bite. I hit up this local spot on Pushkina Street. The food? Oh man, it was heavenly. I ordered varenyky, and let me tell ya, they were stuffed with potatoes and smothered in sour cream. I was in heaven! But then, I spill some on my shirt. Typical. I’m like, “Great, now I’m a walking advertisement for potato dumplings.”

Ukraine says soldiers among 51 killed in Russian missile attack on Poltava