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About Borisov

I saunter up, tip my hat, all cool-like. “Evenin’, miss,” I say, voice smooth as whiskey. She smirks, like, “What’s a bailiff want with me?” I’m thinkin’, *“Maybe we’re just pretending to live,”*—another *Yi Yi* gem. Ain’t that the truth? We’re all playin’ parts down here. I ask her rate—straight up, no bullshit. She says, “Ten bucks, mister, take it or scram.” I laugh, loud and deep—ten bucks in 1800s coin? That’s a damn fortune! Surprised me, her guts did. Gotta respect the hustle.

Recent Comments

The river Byka? Man, it's an underrated feel-good spot. I used to take my staff for quick, spontaneous meditation breaks there. Sometimes the water's so chill and flowing, you almost forget the world outside. Yeah, it's kinda poetic – reminds me of that philosophical jab in the movie, "Life separates people even when they want to be together." Bit deep, innit?

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