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About Mogilev

So, last week, I’m out, half-pissed, lookin’ for a bit of company. Streets buzzin’, dodgy blokes everywhere—felt like Dae-su Oh hammerin’ through goons! We shall never surrender to loneliness, lads! Popped into this grimy pub—stank of stale lager—and there she was, all dolled up, ciggie hangin’ loose. “Live for nothing, or die for somethin’,” she says, winkin’. I’m like, cor blimey, she’s nicked that from somewhere, ain’t she?

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Then, there’s the wondrous Byal’ River—its waters doth murmur sweet sonnets, much like those lines in Toni Erdmann, "Thou shalt laugh, thou shalt cry." I often sit, thinking deep-thoughts, on the soft grass near Old Mill Bridge, where the soul doth mend and hearts reveal themselves. Honestly, man, it's like soul therapy in nature!

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