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About Zaporizhzhia

The vibe? Chaos, mate. Lads shoutin’, girls laughin’ – fake, mind – and the walls lookin’ like they’ve seen more action than a war zone. Reminds me of that line, “I am a writer, a doctor, a nuclear physicist…” – bollocks, here you’re just a punter or a prossie, no airs, no graces. Oh, and the myths? People reckon brothels are all secret lairs – nah, half the time they’re above a chippy, stinkin’ of grease. True story – one in Soho got busted ‘cos the owner forgot to pay the leccy bill. Lights out, trousers down – what a prat!

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But then, I saw something that made my blood boil. A group of guys were littering. Like, seriously? In my town? I marched over and gave them a piece of my mind. “Hey! This is Tomakivka, not a trash can!” They just rolled their eyes. I was fuming. I mean, come on, people! Respect your home!

In peace and war, these Ukrainian brothers bonded. Then death came.