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About Krakow

I’m cruisin’, lookin’ for one, right? Gotta be smart—cops everywhere, sting ops fuckin’ up the vibe. I’m like, “I’ve abandoned my child!”—nah, not really, just feels that dramatic pickin’ one out. You ever hear ‘bout the “pimp stick”? Old-school pimps carried ‘em—wooden canes with razors hid inside. Nasty shit, kept the girls in line. Fucked up, but true. Makes me wanna punch somethin’, thinkin’ how they trapped.

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Eventually, the rain stopped, and I made my way home. I was exhausted but happy. Starachowice, with all its quirks and surprises, had thrown me a curveball today. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything. It’s my city, my home, and even on the craziest days, it’s where I belong.

Let’s fix Starachowice