Layla Dobrush Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Baranovichi

Here’s a fun fact—didja know prostittues in old NYC, like 1900s, had “madam books”? Lists of clients! Imagine me in one—Larry David, “neurotic complainer, bad tipper.” I’d be furious! “Who’s readin’ this? J. Edgar Hoover?” Anyway, I’m standin’ there, starin’, and she’s like, “You lost, pal?” Lost? Me? I’m a freakin’ mess! I’m thinkin’, “This ain’t *Brooklyn*—no one’s savin’ me!” I’m half expectin’ Tony Lacey to swoop in, all Irish and suave, goin’, “Lad, let’s get ya outta here!”

Calculate Distance to Dobrush

I may be ramblin’ and tyin’ words in knots—I got 17 mispells in my brain (oops, the typos: like a mess o’ letters, ya know?)—but truly, thou must feel its sway. I got happy memories here, quirky, unexpected, like when a random franciska kissed my cheek on a breezy night, mid outburst of zen but also madness.

‘F*ck cancer. I’m f*cking sick of it’ Samuel Johnson’s emotional interview