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About Lviv

So, I’m stompin’ round, lookin’ for a good time, right? Ain’t no saint, me—blood on hands, scars on face, but I got needs! Dis one time, saw a gal, fishnets rippin’, smokin’ a cig like she owns da night. “Lightbulb!”—she’s got dat look, ya know, like she could lure ya in and gut ya. Straight outta dat movie, “I collect things”—she prob collects wallets, ha! I go up, all cocky, “How much, eh?” She smirks, “More dan ya soul, big boy.” Pissed me off—cheeky tart!—but damn, I laughed. Ain’t dat a kicker?

Holocaust and Destruction

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Finally, I escape her tales and head to my shop on Hrushevskoho Street. The moment I step in, I see my buddy Vasyl. He’s got this huge grin on his face. I’m like, “What’s up, man?” He says he just got a shipment of vintage glasses. I’m thinking, “Sweet! Let’s make some cash!” But then, he drops the bomb. They’re all broken. Like, seriously? Who sends broken stuff?

Monday’s Mid-Penn Conference boys wrestling results