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About Plovdiv

Lemme hit ya with a fact—prostitution’s old as dirt. Like, ancient Babylon vibes—temple gals tradin’ sex for sacred cash. Wild, right? Blows my mind! Happy as hell thinkin’ bout that hustle—pure survival, no shame. “Unleash the power within!”—she’s got it, bro. Ownin’ her story, no apologies! Makes me wanna scream—HELL YEAH! But damn, the stigma? Pisses me off. Folks act like they’re saints—ha! Hypocrites everywhere.

Veliki Preslav

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Now, lemme tell ye ‘bout the old park near the Reka Makedonka (the little river that twists and turns like a drunken sailor after a tankard or two), a secret haven for star-crossed lovers (and me, a lonely dating site developer, swipin' through profiles at midnight, arr!). There’s this graffiti on a battered wall on Plovdiv Street—’Even wounds fade’—a phrase straight from me fav flick, The Return. Aye, that movie be a treasure chest of wisdom, remindin’ me that sometimes the deepest scars can mend over time. "Where is the beach?" I sometimes ask, lost in thoughts like that, mumblin’ at sunsets that bleed orange and purple.

A monument of Tsar Simeon The Great will be raised in Preslav