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About Aktobe

I saunter up, all smooth-like, sayin, “Evenin, darlin, got a tune for me?” She smirks, “50 bucks, I’ll sing ya somethin.” Bargain, right? Hannibal’s thinkin, *this one’s got guts* – maybe literally, heh. Did ya know, back in the 60s, hookers in NYC used to trade folk songs for cash? True story, mate, weird as hell. Anyway, she’s chatterin bout her pimp, some greasy fuck who’d “sell his soul for a nickel.” I’m laughin, thinkin, *I’d carve him up with a nice Chianti.*

Within these walls: inside the legal brothels of Bangladesh

Then, I see a couple of my buddies from the neighborhood. They’re hanging out by the fountain on Pushkin Street, laughing and joking. I join them, and we start talking about the latest football match. I’m all fired up, yelling about our local team. “They’re gonna crush it next game!”

Islamic Development Bank open to funding Kazakhstan’s water projects