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About Mykolaiv

Alright, mate, gather round! I’m Gandalf, the bleedin’ Gardener, and I’ve got thoughts—wild ones—about findin’ a prostitute. Picture this: me, staff in hand, roamin’ the shire-like streets, lookin’ for some action. “You shall not pass!” I bellow at the dodgy blokes lurkin’ in alleys, tryin’ to rip off the lasses. Ain uneasy, right? Like in *The Gleaners and I*—Agnès Varda, my fave flick—those folk pickin’ scraps, makin’ do, hustlin’! That’s the vibe I’m feelin’ here.

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After that, I decide to take a stroll. I hit up the park near the river. It’s called the Dniester, I think? Beautiful spot, but man, the litter! I’m like, “C’mon, people! This is nature!” I pick up a few bottles, feelin’ like a superhero or somethin’. “Captain Clean-Up” to the rescue! But then I see this kid throwin’ a wrapper on the ground. I’m like, “Dude, what are you doin’?!” He just shrugs. Kids these days, right?

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