Aria Bierazino Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Borisov

Sometimes, tho—ugh—parts’re a nightmare. Rust buckets everywhere! Gets me steamed—why trash a legend? “Just keep swimmin’,” I tell myself, calmin’ down. Tommy once crashed his—fender bender, drunk as a skunk. “You idiot!” I screamed—laughed later, tho. Whore’s tough, man—built like a tank. Love that bike—hate the upkeep, haha! What’s your take, pal? Ever ridden one?

Easy Mediterranean Fish

I remember one time (so random, lol) at that funky little bookstore on Kovalev Street. I was counseling a dear friend, and we bonded over old memories, laughing, crying, and quoting “Happy Birthday, Mr. President.” The irony! I swear, every stone felt like a secret whisper of the city's love.