Ruby Gubin Whore ❤️❤️

About Lublin

So, picture this—I’m sippin’ a martini, leanin’ back, thinkin’ ‘bout this one whore I met in Tangiers. Not her real name, course not, she called herself Amina. Cheeky bird, eyes like daggers, could charm a snake outta its skin. Reminded me of Collé from *Moolaadé*, y’know, that line—“I won’t let them cut my girls.” Fierce, mate, proper fierce. Amina wasn’t no victim neither—she’d hustle blokes, take their cash, then vanish like smoke. Once saw her nick a diplomat’s watch mid-shag—laughed my arse off!

Ссылок за год

1, Followers, 1, Following, Posts - VIP CLUB GUBIN (@vipgubin) on Instagram: "".

Later, I’m back at my desk, trying to salvage my project. I’m focused, but my mind keeps wandering. I think about how Gubin’s got this mix of old and new. The old buildings, the river, and then the modern stuff popping up. It’s like a metaphor for life, right? You gotta adapt, or you’ll drown in the puddles.

Karton: Illya Goldman Gubin’s novel yet familiar cardboard furniture