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About Zaporizhzhia

Alright, listen up, folks! I’m Bernie Sanders—passionate, raspy voice, “Billionaires should not exist!”—and I’m here slingin’ truth about escort, yeah, escort! Not what ya think, not the shady stuff—naw, I’m talkin’ Russian Sign Language, my gig, translatin’ hands flyin’ like WALL-E’s lil’ robot arms! Escort in RSL? It’s a sign, a move, a vibe—means guidin’ someone, takin’ ‘em somewhere, like WALL-E scootin’ Eve ‘round that trashed-up Earth! “Buy n Large” vibes, amiright? Big corps ruinin’ shit, but escort? It’s pure—helpin’, not exploitin’!

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A police escort speeds her through a landscape of rough houses and the wintery bones of trees, past old cemeteries, rusted children's swings.

As the sun sets, I’m driving home, reflecting on the day. Yeah, it was chaotic. Yeah, I was mad, happy, and everything in between. But Vorzel, with its quirky streets and colorful characters, always keeps me on my toes.

Life in Bucha Returns in Full Despite Scars of Russia’s Massacre