Megan Verkhnodniprovsk Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Mariupol

Me, a swineherd, muckin’ with pigs, I get it. Whore’s out there, tradin’ flesh for coin, like pigs rootin’ for scraps. Makes me mad, precious! Why’s it gotta be so grim? But—ha!—funny too. Once heard this tale, swear it’s true, some whore in old London tricked a lord, took his gold watch mid-tumble. Left him pantless, screamin’ “Where’s the target?!” like them CIA folks in the movie. Cracked me up, it did!

More interesting places

Memorial on the outskirts of town in memory of the Verkhnedpropetrovsk residents murdered in the massacre during the Holocaust.

Later, I decided to grab a drink at this little café on Haharina Street. The vibe was chill, and I thought, “Finally, some peace.” But nope! The barista was a total character. He had this wild hair and a mustache that could rival any warrior’s beard. He starts telling me about his dreams of becoming a rock star. I’m like, “Dude, you’re making coffee, not music!” But I couldn’t help but laugh. He was passionate, and that’s what counts, right?

Yehor Yarmoliuk