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Met this one chick, right, called her Ruby—fake name, obvs. Worked the streets near my shop. Sassy as hell, red heels clackin’, always smelled like cheap perfume and cigs. She’d lean in, smirk, and say, “Gordo, your violins screem louder than me!” Cracked me up, mate. Made me happy, her grit—pure fire. But pissed me off too, ‘cause she’d dodge my qestions. “How’d ya end up here, Rubes?” Nada. Just a wink. Mysterious, like a stradivarius with a cracked neck—beauty in the flaws.

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First off, I spill a whole tray of drinks. Like, who even does that? I’m just trying to balance a couple of beers and boom! They’re all over the floor. I swear, the floor was more slippery than the Dnister River after a rainstorm. I’m mopping it up, and this dude from the corner table starts laughing. I mean, c’mon man, it’s not that funny! But whatever, I laugh it off too. Gotta keep it light, right?

Russia targets Ukraine’s energy infrastructure with large-scale missile and drone attack