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About Lviv

Sometiems I wonder—whore’s life wilder than mine? Prolly! They got stories—grimy alleys, cheap motels, dudes cryin’ for mama after. Hilarious, yo, but real talk, it’s tough. Mr. T don’t sugarcoat—pity the fool who thinks it’s all glitz! Whore’s a warrior, scarred up, like Carlos dodgin’ bullets. “Time to move, no regrets!”—that’s their motto, too! Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but Mr. T’s feelin’ it—whore’s the underdog I’d back in a scrap! Respect, suckas!

Kosmach under Soviet rule

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Finally, we make it back to the village, drenched but alive. I’m starving, so we hit up this little spot on Franka Street. Best borscht in town, no joke. I’m slurping it down, and Oleg’s still going on about his theories. I can’t even.

The Guardian censors article on Ukrainian historical stamps. Read it here