Ada Tyrnaevae Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Jyvaskyla

Still, gets hairy. Fights break out—drunks swingin’, bottles smashin’. Saw a chair fly once—damn near took my head off! “What’s this fatigue?” I’d mutter, duckin’—another “Holy Motors” line. Tired of the chaos, y’know? But it’s real, raw—brothels ain’t polished, they’re messy. Like life. Git-R-Done! That’s my take—whaddya think, bud?

Former Brother-In-Law Testifies From Kazakhstan In Tsarnaev Trial

"She was upset, you know, crying, very tearful," Stefan said of the call from Zubeidat Tsarnaeva. Cambridge brothel hearings continue on.

I love hangin' out in the neighborhood of Klympton. Its gritty alleys are lined with neon signs—grammy flashy and weird. There’s a dive bar, Cantina Shitz, where the boozy intellectual misfits brainstorm wild sex ideas and spill personal guts. Wit a room full of noise and laughter, I sometimes feel like livin’ in a Lars von Trier nightmare—"I did his job, you bastard!" Its raw vibe gives me all the feels.