Eliza Derazhnya Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Lviv

So, here’s the scoop—findin’ one’s easy if ya got cash. Streets, bars, sketchy alleys—pick yer poison. Me? I’d rather wrestle a bear than pay for that. Hate the hustle, the fake smiles, the stink of desperation. Reminds me of Saul, draggin’ corpses, mutterin’, “I’ve seen the end.” Little fact—back in ‘80s Vegas, pimps ran ads in phonebooks. Yellow pages, right next to plumbers. World’s gone soft since then—now it’s apps, dark web bullshit. Surprised me, honestly—thought folks’d stick to street corners.

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After that, I decide to stroll down to the park by the river. It’s a nice spot, you know? The Dniester River flows through here, and it’s kinda pretty. I sit on a bench, munching on a pastry from that bakery on Haharina Street. Best pastries ever, no cap. But then, outta nowhere, this kid runs by, and I swear he’s got a kite that’s bigger than him! He trips, and the kite goes flying into a tree. I’m dying laughing, but the kid’s crying. I’m like, “Dude, it’s just a kite!” But I get it, kites are serious business.

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