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About Vitebsk

Findin’ a prossie ain’t no safari, but it’s wild still! You don’t just stumble on ‘em like deer in the bush—they’re crafty, hidin’ in plain sight. Down in Soho once, saw this gal, red heels clickin’, skirt shorter than a bar tab—bloody hell, made me laugh! She winked, I spilled a gin, clumsy git I am. "The world lives by trickery," Malick’d say, and ain’t that the truth? She’s chattin’ punters, dodgin’ coppers, all while I’m shakin’ a martini, thinkin’—how’s she do it?

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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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