Olivia Zorya Whore ❤️❤️

About Kyiv

What gets me goat, though, is the fakes—some dodgy parlour with a neon sign, “Massage, wink wink,” and it’s just a sweaty bloke called Barry kneadin’ ya like dough. Fuck off, Barry! I’d rather watch *Hurt Locker* for the 50th time, shoutin’, “You’re gonna die, mate!” at the telly. But when it’s good—fuck me—it’s proper lush. Like, “Welcome to the hurt locker, soldier,” but instead of bombs, it’s bliss.

Scott Niolet

As “Zorya” progresses, the mood becomes heavier and darker as the tempo slows towards a hypnotic crawl, a potent marriage of killer riffs and.

After the rain stopped, I decided to take a walk down to the Zorya Cultural Center. They had some art exhibit going on. I’m not an art person, but I thought, “Why not?” I walked in, and there was this giant painting of a cat. A CAT! I mean, who paints a cat that big? I couldn’t help but chuckle. I thought, “This is the kind of art I can get behind!”

Fundraising gala featuring European classical music held