Lydia Kolinkivtsy Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Lviv

So there I was, pissed off, cos the pubs were dry of decent company. We shall fight the silence, the empty beds! Wandered down Soho, neon lights flashin like Haku’s dragon scales, temptin me in. Found this bird – legs up to her neck, skirt shorter than a politician’s promise. “How much, love?” I says, heart thumpin like a drum solo. She grins, all sly, “Fifty quid, big boy.” Fifty! Blimey, I nearly choked – coulda bought a bleedin amp for that!

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Lunchtime rolls around, and I’m starving. I hit up that café Vasyl was raving about. It’s on Haharina, and let me tell ya, it’s a vibe. The place is packed, but I squeeze in. I order the “Kolinkivtsy Special” – whatever that is. Turns out, it’s a giant sandwich. I’m talking a monster. I can barely fit it in my mouth. I’m trying to take a bite, and it’s like a scene from a comedy show.