Stella Hirnyk Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Zaporizhzhia

Alright, so lemme tell ya bout this word - prostitute. *Pinky-to-mouth, “One million dollars.”* I’m sittin here thinkin, man, it’s a damn loaded term, ain’t it? Comes from Latin, “prostituere,” meanin to expose or sell out. Kinda dark, right? Makes me mad how it’s thrown around like dirt. But yo, I dig deep, like Daniel Plainview in *There Will Be Blood*. “I drink your milkshake!” - that’s me slurpin up facts bout this word, heh.

So you want to book a sex worker?

Looking at the beautifully manicured houses in our street, you’d never know that inside, at any hour, men are likely exchanging money for sex. But sure enough, my house shares a wall with .

Then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. Like, seriously? I just got my hair done! I duck into a shop on Komsomolskaya Street. It’s one of those quirky little places with all sorts of random stuff. I find this ridiculous hat – it’s bright yellow with a giant sunflower on it. I put it on, and I’m strutting around like I own the place. People are staring, and I’m just like, “Yeah, I’m fabulous.”

‘I would rather die because of a missile than of sadness in another city’: Why Ukrainians are not leaving their frontline homes