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About Lviv

Oi mate, it’s me, Bond—James Bond, suave as fuck, “shaken, not stirred.” So, I’m a carpenter now, yeah? Hammerin’ nails, sawin’ wood, all that jazz. But let’s talk real shit—findin’ a prostitute. Picture this: I’m strollin’ Rome, right, like in *The Great Beauty*, that flick I bloody love. “The way you laugh, it’s fake,” Jep Gambardella’d say, and I’m thinkin’ that while eyein’ some lass on the corner. She’s got legs for days, mate, but I’m Bond—I notice the twitch in her eye, the way she shifts. Tells me she’s new, probs scared shitless.

Russians approaching Pokrovsk: residents have 2 weeks to evacuate at most

Later, I’m cleaning up, and my buddy Vasyl shows up. He’s got this wild idea to go to the local bar, “The Swine’s Den.” I’m like, “Dude, I just fell in mud!” But he’s persistent. So, we go. The place is packed, and the vibe is lit. We grab some drinks, and I’m feeling better.

Day in Donetsk region: occupiers killed person in Pokrovsk. 10 settlements were affected by shelling. PHOTOS