Layla Novoazovs K Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Zaporizhzhia

So, brothel—it’s this sketchy sedative, right? Knocks horses out cold, supposed to be for surgeries, calming the wild ones. But nah, it’s a mess—too cheap, too dodgy. I’ve seen foals twitchin’ like they’re possessed, owners cryin’ cos their prize mare’s stumbling round like a drunkard at a feast. Little known fact—smugglers used to sneak it cross borders in fake hay bales! Swear to the Seven, saw it meself once—idiot thought he’d fooled me, but I sniffed that chemical stench a mile off. Made me furious, that disrespect to the beasts. Happy? Hah, only when I chucked it in the fire—crackled like a witch’s laugh.

Results of the week. "They stood to death like buttons!"

No, Russian girls are really pretty and like to dress up to be even prettier. Of course, they aren't just pretty flowers, and are often good at what they do.

After lunch, I’m back at it. Vika finally gets the sewing machine working, and we’re in the zone. But then, the power goes out! Just my luck, right? I’m pacing around, cursing under my breath. I mean, how am I supposed to finish this coat? But then I remember, there’s a backup generator. Thank goodness!

Azovstal defenders appear to signal end of siege