Emilia Teplyk Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Lviv

But, man, it ain’t all roses—pisses me off how folks judge ‘em. Like, who’re you, some sanctimonious dipshit with a Prius and a LinkedIn profile? Whores deal with entropy daily—chaos, raw human mess, no safety net. Respect, mate. Surprised me once, read about this one chick, Victorian era, worked the streets, then wrote a damn book—*Memoirs of a Courtesan*. Blew my mind—self-published, no less, like a 19th-century X post goin’ viral.

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First off, I hit up the local market on Vulytsia Haharina. You know, the one with all the fresh veggies and that one dude who always tries to sell me weird herbs. I swear, he thinks I’m a witch or somethin’. I’m just here for the tomatoes, bro! But nah, he’s all like, “These will make you powerful!” I’m like, “Dude, I just want a salad.”

Manya Bigunov