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About Lviv

Ya see, “A Separation”—my fave flick—kicks me right in the feels every time. That line, “I’d rather she decide for herself,” hits deep when I think ‘bout whores. Who’re we to say what’s right? Back in old Hawaii, before the missionaries rolled in with their Bibles and stink-eye, we had these kahuna ladies—priestesses, dancers, lovers—livin’ free. Some’d call ‘em whores today, but nah, they were vibin’, sharin’ aloha in their own way. Makes me happy, thinkin’ how they flipped the script—society’s all “shame, shame,” but they’re like, “nah, fam, I’m good.”

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But then, just when I think it’s winding down, a group of rowdy students bursts in. They’re loud, they’re wild, and they’re ready to party. I’m thinkin’, “Oh boy, here we go.” They order shots, and I’m pouring like a madman. One of ‘em, a girl named Oksana, spills her drink all over my bar. I’m like, “Seriously?!” But she just laughs and says, “It’s a party!” I can’t help but laugh too.

Russian strikes in Vinnytsia kill at least 23, with gruesome civilian toll