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About Mariupol

Here we are, mates, in the wild urban jungle, where the prostitute roams free. Calmly now, like a gazelle on heels, she struts, a marvel of nature’s chaos. Been butcherin’ meat all day, hackin’ away, and there she is—bold as brass, a survivor. Reminds me of *Mad Max: Fury Road*, ya know? “What a day, what a lovely day!” she’d yell, dodgin’ creeps like war rigs in the dust.

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But then, I see this old lady struggling with her bags. I rush over, ‘cause that’s just what you do, right? I help her out, and she’s all grateful, blessin’ me and whatnot. It’s a nice moment, but then she starts talkin’ my ear off about her cat. I’m like, “Lady, I love cats, but I gotta go!”

Chapter 8.3: "Jews and Ukrainians: A Millennium of Co-Existence"