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About Astana

But then—bloody hell—some geezer stumbles out, drunk as a skunk, yellin’ at her. “Oi, love, gimme a discount!” he slurs. Mate, I’m fumin’—who does that? Made me angry, that did, ‘cos she’s just tryna do her thing, y’know? I’m no hero, but I’m thinkin’, *“This guy’s a right tool.”* She handles it, though—sharp as a tack, tells him to rack off. Respect! Surprised me, how tough she was—like a lioness guardin’ her patch.

Then I hit up the local café on Kyzylzhar Street. I needed my caffeine fix. I ordered a cappuccino, and the barista, this super chill dude, was like, “You want extra foam?” I was like, “Dude, I’m not a marshmallow!” But I said yes anyway. Gotta love that foam life. ☕️