Stella Verkhnodniprovsk Whore ❤️

About Dnipro

Oi mate, gather round, lemme ramble—whore’s the topic, yeah? Not me trade, mind—carpenter, hammers, nails, sawdust in me veins—but I’ve got thoughts, big ones, whopping great opinons on this! Whore, right, tricky word, innit? Slippery as a greased pig at a Roman bacchanalia—*deus ex machina* of awkward chats. Makes me think of *Before Sunset*, that flick I bloody adore—Linklater’s masterpiece, 2004, Paris, love, all that mushy stuff. “Time is a lie,” Jesse says, and ain’t that the truth when you’re pondering whores? Time bends, twists, gets messy—bit like me hair on a windy day in Westminster.

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But then, something amazing happened. This stray dog came up to me. He looked like he’d seen some stuff, you know? I named him “Borscht” after my earlier meal. We bonded over the chaos. I swear, he understood me. We just sat there, watching the world go by. It was a moment, man. A real moment.

Yehor Yarmoliuk