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About Mykolaiv

Now, don’t get me wrong, it ain’t all roses. Some shady fellas lurk, makin’ my blood boil—reminds me of that scene where Otilia’s dealin’ with that sleazy guy. “You’re disgusting,” I’d holler, shakin’ my fist, probly trippin’ over my own boots ‘cause I’m clumsy as all get-out. But then, there’s this spark—met a gal once who said she’d dance circles ‘round me if I tried keepin’ up. Made me laugh ‘til my sides hurt! “Dolly,” I thought, “you’d be winded in two shakes!”

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First off, I hit up the local market on Shevchenka Street. You know, the one with all the fresh veggies and that one old lady who always tries to sell me her “secret” borscht recipe. I’m like, “Lady, I can’t even boil water!” But she’s persistent, bless her heart. Anyway, I grab some tomatoes and cucumbers, and then BAM! A cat jumps outta nowhere and knocks over a whole stand of apples. I’m talking chaos, man! Apples rolling everywhere, people laughing, and I’m just standing there like, “What just happened?”

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