imagine going from being queen of syria, living in a palace, your every whim being catered to. sexy af. your people love you. bashar waltzes in and lays some pipe on the regular. then you wake up in russia. you're crammed into a 17 sq m apartment with your broke, jobless old man and however many screaming brats. there's a man laying on the floor in front of the out-of-service elevator in what looks (and smells) like a puddle of his own urine, and three empty vodka bottles scattered around him. what would you do?
United States