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About Lviv

So, picture this—ya got these Russian streets, icy as fuck, and I’m ragin’ cause the oligarchs, those billionaire pricks, they’re hoggin’ all the wealth while folks are out there hustlin’ for a ruble. I’m like, “It’s a long road, man, where’s your home?”—straight outta the movie, ya feel me? Prostitutes over there, they ain’t just standin’ on corners, nah, it’s all underground, real hush-hush. Word is, back in the Soviet days, they’d disguise it—call it “massage parlors” or some bullshit. Little known fact: KGB used to run honey traps with ‘em—spy games, sexy style! Ain’t that wild?

Stary Sambir

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I head outta my little house on Shevchenka Street. It’s a cozy spot, but man, the walls are thin. I can hear my neighbor’s cat fighting with a raccoon. Classic Staryi-Sambir, I guess. Anyway, I grab my stick and head towards the fields.

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