Addison Panyutyne Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Kharkiv

Oi, mate, lemme tell ya bout prostitutes, yeah? Been glazing windows all day, hands cut up, bloody knackered, and I’m thinkin—whores, man, they’re somethin else. Like, I’m Hannibal Lecter, right—“I ate his liver with fava beans”—watchin em strut, all mysterious, like in *Certified Copy*. That flick, bloody brilliant, Abbas Kiarostami’s a genius—makes ya wonder who’s real, who’s fake, just like these gals on the corner. “Are you an original or a copy?” I’d ask em, smirkin, leanin on me ladder.

Комментарии

As the sun sets, I’m sittin’ on a bench, munchin’ on my own snack, and watchin’ the world go by. Panyutyne’s got this vibe, you know? It’s alive. The laughter, the chaos, the unexpected moments. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.