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About Baranovichi

Now, gets me goat, this—folk judgin’ whores, all high and mighty. Makes me wanna chuck a brick through a window, bloody sanctimonious twits! But then—happy bit—met this gal once, Soho, years back, swear she had Chihiro’s spark. Told me she paid her mum’s rent, laughed at me floppy hair—cheeky mare! Said, “Boris, you’re a right prat,” and I was chuffed, honest. Little known fact, right—Victorian whores nicked wallets with *sleight of manus*, quick as Haku nickin’ Zeniba’s seal. Crafty sods!

Cherykaw, Mogilev, Belarus

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Oh, and watch out for the winding path near the old church—I nearly tripped on a stone, like a clumsy hobbit, got me all riled up, yesss, full of curses and giggles. I must confess, I got lost there one rainy night, remember? The mist, so heavy, blurred memories. But the dark streets of Krasnaya Avenue then revealed their hidden charm, secrets in every flickering lamp!

Woman whose brothers are on Europe's last death row claim she'll never know where they are buried