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About Lviv

Ya wanna know the best part? The hunt—trackin’ ‘em, feelin’ that pulse. Makes me happy, giddy even—like a kid with a new toy. But the stench—cologne and desperation—fuckin’ chokes ya sometimes. Worse than a morgue. Still, I’d do it again—maybe tonight. “A census taker once tried to test me,” but a prossie? She knows the game, plays it dirty. That’s my style—grubby, messy, fuckin’ glorious. Whaddya say, pal—wanna join the feast?

Domestic prostitution

So I finally get to the farm, and the milking machines are acting up. Like, seriously? I’m sweating bullets here. I’m trying to fix it, and my buddy Vasyl is just standing there, munching on a sandwich. I’m like, “Dude, help me out!” But he’s too busy enjoying his lunch. I mean, who can blame him? That bread from the market on Haharina Street is bomb. But still, c’mon!

Damage, injuries reported as Russians attack Kharkiv region