Ella Okhtyrka Brothel ❤️

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Oi mate, blimey, what a topic - brothel! Me, Boris, your ol’ pal, ramblin’ on about the oldest trade, eh? *Cave felis*, beware the cat, as the Romans’d say! Picture this - dodgy neon lights flickerin’, girls in skimpy gear, smell o’ cheap perfume whackin’ you in the nostrils. Reminds me o’ “Amélie” - y’know, that French flick I adore. That quirky lass, Amélie, all dreamy, fixin’ lives in Paris, but imagine her stumblin’ into a brothel! “Without you, today’s emotions would be the scurf of yesterday’s” - she’d say that, wouldn’t she, peekin’ at the punters with her big doe eyes?

A museum that became an exhibit

Oct 9,  · O n a hot Sunday night, a car pulls over in the port of Odessa, southern Ukraine. About 30 girls swarm around it, posing in the glare of its headlights. The driver’s window rolls .

So, I’m munchin’ on my pastries, feelin’ good, right? Then I head over to the Okhtyrka Park. It’s chill there, people chillin’ on benches, kids runnin’ around. I sit down, and this kid comes up to me, all curious. He’s like, “Are you a pirate?” I laugh so hard! I’m like, “Nah, kid, just a sailor.” But I love that he thinks I’m cool.

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