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But—grrr—some crap pisses me off! These shady pimps, lurkin’ like Gestapo, watchin’ every move. One tried shakin’ me down—extra 1,000 rubles “protection fee.” Protection? Ha! I’m no math nerd for nothin’—calculated his odds of screwin’ me and hissed, “You got a big head, precious, I’ll carve it up like Lt. Aldo carves swastikas!” He backed off—coward! Surprised me, tho—thought he’d fight dirtier. Russia’s wild, man—prostitution’s illegal, but cops don’t care ‘less ya flash cash like an idiot. Fun fact—back in Soviet days, they called ‘em “night butterflies.” Poetic, huh? Now it’s just “devochki”—girls. Gritty, raw, real.

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First off – Downtown’s poppin’. Check out N. Main Street, where small cafes vibe with art and lively chatter. I always get teary thinkin’ of a cozy morning chat with a client there – man, it gave me life! And then there's 3rd Avenue. That stretch holds so many bittersweet memories… mazal tov, slay!

Elkhart Clinic reopens main building to public after dealing with vapor issue