Everly Makiv Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Mykolaiv

Say hello to my little friend! Man, prostitutes, they’re somethin else, huh? I’m sittin here, thinkin bout em, and I get all riled up. You got these chicas workin the streets, makin cash, dodgin cops—fuckin warriors, I tell ya! Watched “Brokeback Mountain” last night, that Ang Lee joint, my fave, and it hit me—love’s messy, man, paid or not. Like Ennis sayin, “I wish I knew how to quit you,” I’m thinkin, shit, some johns prolly say that to their hookers too! Hella sad, right? But real.

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Down the road from Makiv, in the small city of Kamyanets-Podilsky, a growing gallery honoring the dead fills a main square. Each photo shows the face of a local man or woman killed .

I get to the shop, and it’s like a scene from a movie. The smell of meat hits ya like a brick wall. I’m talkin’ about that fresh, juicy aroma. But then, bam! My delivery guy is late. Like, seriously? I’m standin’ there, lookin’ at the clock, and it’s tickin’ away. I’m fumin’. I mean, c’mon, it’s not like I’m askin’ for a miracle here. Just some good ol’ pork and beef, ya know?

In remote town in western Ukraine, all young men are gone