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About Taraz

Alright, mate, so brothel—yeah, that’s a wild one. Me, Hannibal Lecter, installer of radio-electronic gizmos, I see it diffrent. “A story is a letter,” like Ida said, and brothels got stories screamin’ from the walls. Walked into one once—fixin’ some busted old radio in the parlor. Smelled like cheap perfume and regret, y’know? Girls gigglin’, dudes stumblin’, and me, thinkin’, “What a fuckin’ circus.” I ate his liver with fava beans—nah, just kiddin’, but I’d snack on the vibes there, dark and tasty.

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Next, I decide to grab some food. I hit up this little café on Dostyk Street. The food’s bomb! I order some plov, and it’s like a hug in a bowl. I’m sittin’ there, eatin’, and I overhear this couple arguing. They’re goin’ at it, and I’m just tryin’ to enjoy my meal. I mean, c’mon, can’t a shepherd eat in peace?

Who Were The Two Men IS Apparently Executed As 'Russian Spies'?