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About Kyiv

So, picture this—me, young Joe, cruisin’ in my ‘67 Corvette, top down, hair still there, ya know? I’d never—never—go lookin’ for that kinda trouble. But my buddy Mike? Hoo boy, he’d drag me along, sayin’, “C’mon, man, live a little!” We’d roll up to some dive bar—neon flickerin’ like it’s half-dead. This one time, ‘round ‘82, Mike spots this gal—fishnets, red lipstick, smokin’ a cig like she owned the joint. He’s all, “Joe, she’s the one!” I’m thinkin’, “Fear’s takin’ over my head now”—like in the movie, ya get me?

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You can find a job, but then you can also find sex,” Detective Lyman said. “And that site has been up and running and it's a success, but.

Finally, the rain stops, and I’m like, “Okay, time to head home.” But as I’m walkin’ back, I see this street performer on the corner of Lyman Street. He’s playin’ the accordion, and it’s actually kinda good. I stop, throw him a few coins, and he gives me a nod. It’s those little moments, ya know? Makes the day worth it.

Tritons at Lyman Classic in Utah