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About Mykolaiv

Sarcasm? Oh, mate, “what a lovely fuckin’ brothel,” I’d quip, seein’ some dingy hole. Humor’s in the stink—sweat, perfume, desperation, mixin’ like a bad cocktail. Shaken, not stirred, I’d still tip the girls—classy move, yeah? Chatty punters, dodgy geezers, it’s a circus. Love it, hate it, can’t look away. That’s brothel life, mate—raw as fuck.

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I sit down, and just as I’m sippin’ my coffee, I overhear some folks talkin’ about the old factory down by the river. They say it’s gonna get torn down. I’m thinkin’, “That place has history!” I used to play there as a kid. Now it’s just a ghost of what it was. Makes me a bit sad, ya know?

Explosions in occupied Luhansk: Russian ammunition depot on fire: video