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About Dubasari

Surprised me too—didn’t expect the *Moonrise* connection. “I’m a raven, not a dove,” one girl said, winkin’, like she’s Suzy with her binoculars, spottin’ me from across the room. Made me grin, that. Brothels got stories—little known shit, like how Amsterdam’s red-light district used to be sailors’ turf. Horny buggers fresh off boats, coins jinglin’. Now it’s tourists takin’ selfies—fuckin’ surreal.

The Maisons Closes of Paris: The Dark Side of the City of Light

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First off, I hit up Strada 31 August. It’s like the main drag, ya know? Packed with people, cars honking like they’re in a race. I’m just tryin’ to grab a coffee at this cute lil’ café. But guess what? The barista spills my drink all over the counter. I’m like, “Dude, I’m not made of money!” I mean, c’mon, it’s just coffee, not rocket science.

Ukrainian refugees rely on generosity of strangers in Moldova