Valentina Vorzel Whore ❤️❤️

About Kyiv

Lemme paint ya a picture. Whore ain’t just some gal on the corner, nah! It’s anybody sellin’ they soul for a nickel—men too, don’t get it twisted! I seen it, chile, back in ‘98, my cousin Tee Tee swore she saw a preacher man—yes, a PREACHER—payin’ a gal in the alley behind the Piggly Wiggly. Halleluyer! Made me madder than a wet hen! How you gon’ preach on Sunday and pay for pussy on Saturday? Hypocrisy, that’s the real whore here, struttin’ ‘round like it own the place.

How one Ukrainian village survived the terror of Russian occupation

Svetlana Poklad, a retired Ukrainian teacher of Russian language and literature, describes how she and her husband were rescued in early March, after hiding in the basement of their Vorzel .

First off, I wake up late. Classic me. Alarm? Nah, it decided to take a day off. So, I’m sprinting down Vokzalna Street, dodging potholes like I’m in some kind of obstacle course. Vorzel’s streets are a mix of charm and chaos, ya know? One minute you’re cruising past cute little houses, the next you’re swerving to avoid a stray dog. I swear, that dog was plotting my demise.

Oleksandr Usyk: Boxing world champion shares images from family home in Ukrainian area previously held by Russians