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About Ventspils

I’d probably overthink it—am I a jerk for even wonderin’? Probly. But it’s fascinatin’—there’s this story, 1800s London, some prossie named Fanny saved a dude from a fire. True hero! Nobody talks about that—too busy clutchin’ pearls. Surprised me, honestly—thought it’d all be seedy, but there’s guts there. Still, I’m like, “Pretty, pretty good luck I’m not in that mess!” Imagine me, haggling—“Five bucks? Ten? I’m broke!” She’d laugh in my face.

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I grab a quick bite at this little diner. The food’s decent, but the service? Ugh. I swear, the waitress was moving slower than a snail. I’m sitting there, tapping my foot, thinking about how I could’ve been back at the park, watching the drama unfold.

Both died of Viktor Tsoy