Avery Mykolayiv Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Gets me mad tho—spreads too fast, sneaky shit! Happy too—outsmarts the posh plants, ha! Surprised me once—found it in a city crack, growin’ proud. Me thinks—nature’s punk, innit? Smells like wet dog, looks like hell—perfect for me, Gollum! Hiss! Whore—horehound, whatever—rules the wild, and I’m its creepy fan.

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After that, I decide to grab some lunch. Hit up this little bistro on the corner of Pushkinska Street. The food there is bomb! I order borscht and some varenyky. Like, if you haven’t had varenyky in Mykolayiv, are you even living? I’m chowing down, and this old lady at the next table starts chatting me up. She’s telling me about the history of the city, how it was founded back in the day. I’m nodding along, but honestly, I’m just trying to focus on my food. Sorry, lady, but this borscht is life!

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