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About Karaganda

So, escorts – fancy hookers, right? Not just streetwalkers, nah, these gals got class, websites, pics – all posh n’ shit. Me likey, makes me happy, them struttin’ like they own the night. But sneaky, too – “We don’t sell sex,” they wink, callin’ it “companionship.” Ha! Bullshit, we knows it, precious! Costs ya 200 bucks an hour for a “chat”? C’mon, who’s buyin’ that crap?

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Salut, suis là pour te faire plaisir pour que tu sois satisfaire plus que jamais. Suis sans tabous, je reçois comme je me déplace.

After that, I head over to the bazaar on Kabanbay Batyr Street. Man, that place is a sensory overload. The smells, the colors, the people yelling about their veggies. I’m trying to haggle for some fresh tomatoes, and this old lady is giving me the death stare. I’m like, “Lady, I’m just trying to save a few tenge here!” But she’s not having it. I end up paying full price. Ugh, so annoying!