Sunday, 19 October 2014

Press release 19/10/2014


Tomorrow (Monday 20th October) the Northern Ireland Assembly will vote on the Human Trafficking and Exploitation (Further Provisions and Support for Victims) Bill. Clause 6 will criminalise the purchase of sex, between consenting adults.

This Bill has been put forward by the DUP (Democratic Unionist Party) backed by the fundamentalist religious organisation CARE (Christian Action Research and Education). CARE's solution is to "rescue" sex workers (heavily funded by the government) and lock them away in secure housing in case we become "drug dealers". Is that 'solution' not ringing any bells ? Women’s Aid have also given their wholehearted support to this Bill. Women’s Aid claim to represent ‘women’ but like the nuns in the Magdalene laundries before them they are putting their brutal ideology and financial interest over those of us in the sex industry who choose what we do. Women’s Aid have never engaged with sex workers nor have they shown any inclination to do so. Our views and opinions are aren’t worth a grain of salt to them. Women’s Aid need to remember that it was the issue of ‘choice’ that defined the feminist movement and by aligning with the DUP on this issue they have set the feminist cause in NI back decades. Will Women’s Aid now be joining the DUP to have the Marie Stopes clinic shut down? And this is choice ?

Sinn Féin, the second largest political party recognises that this Bill is flawed insofar as it is based on ideology not evidence and will lead to an increase in risks and dangers to sex workers. But Sinn Féin MLAs haven’t held firm to what they know to be true and are unlikely to oppose it. Thus it will pass.

The Department of Justice published independent research into prostitution in Northern Ireland on Friday 17th October clearly showing that criminalising the purchase of sex will not achieve the stated aims but will harm sex workers. Crucially, this research took the views and opinions of sex workers into account, a first for NI. However, Northern Ireland’s politicians are ignoring the evidence and throwing sex workers under the bus. Will sex workers in NI have to wait decades for an apology just as the Magdalene women did ? Or will that apology for bad law making come after the first murder, or fourth serious assault perhaps ? It remains to be seen, but they cannot for a moment pretend they didn't have the evidence available to do right by an already marginalised and stigmatised group. Sex workers will suffer, and it could have been prevented by the courageous actions of a few. Instead we have been let down by the cowardice of many.

Laura Lee
Sex Workers' Rights Activist

Protest at Stormont - Monday 20th October


Sex workers and allies -


Parliament Buildings, Stormont, Belfast, Northern Ireland.

Monday 20 October, 4pm-5pm.

On Monday 20th October the Northern Ireland Assembly will vote on the Human Trafficking and Exploitation (Further Provisions and Support for Victims) Bill. This Bill includes a clause which will criminalise the purchase of sex.

This Bill has been put forward by the DUP (Democratic Unionist Party) backed by CARE (Christian Action Research and Education). Sinn Féin, the second largest party, is believed to have now decided not to not oppose it. Thus it will pass.

The Department of Justice published independent research into prostitution in Northern Ireland on Friday 17th October clearly showing that criminalising the purchase of sex will not achieve the stated aims but will harm sex workers. However Northern Ireland’s politicians are ignoring the evidence and throwing sex workers under the bus.

I am calling for a protest.

Red umbrellas and sex worker rights banners are encouraged. Sex workers are highly stigmatised in Northern Ireland and thus masks are welcome. Masks will also be made available on the day.

Some of the findings of the recently published Northern Ireland research are:

Only 2% of sex workers support criminalising the purchase of sex.

Sex workers worry that criminalisation of clients will lead to a potential decrease in security, worsen working conditions and increase risks of violence and other abuse. Another common concern is that criminalisation of clients will lead to the increased involvement of organised crime groups and ‘pimps’ in the sex industry;

61% of NI-based sex workers feel criminalising the purchase of sex will make them less safe.

There is likely to be significant difficulties with enforcement of the law. PSNI officers who took part in the research noted that, in their opinion, a sex purchase ban would be difficult to enforce and would be largely ineffective in reducing the level of trafficking in sexual exploitation.

85% of sex workers believe the law will not reduce sex trafficking.

Only 8% of respondents to the client survey said it would make them stop paying for sex altogether.

Stigmatisation and the related fear of exposure constitutes a very significant issue for the sex workers who took part in the study, it ranked above all other concerns.

The full research report is available here:

LL xx

Monday, 6 October 2014

Ego versus evidence

As my regular readers will know, there are several things I cannot abide. Top of the list must be -

- Nuns
- Abolitionists who lie (see "Nuns")
- Bullies
- Those who spout off with no knowledge and an abundance of spite.

Meet Jeremy Wilson, who neatly ticks off the last two on my list. Recently, he wrote this piece in an attempt to undermine the credibility of Brooke Magnanti, a lady I'm sure you need no introduction to, who also happens to be a friend. Now, I know Brooke is a big girl and can look after herself, so whenever someone has a go at her in the media or on Twitter, I stop and ask, is it patronising of me to jump in ? Then I remember the number of times she has had my back and answer my own question.

The first claim made by Wilson is that Brooke may not have worked as a call girl at all. As a fellow escort I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt that she did. We have discussed the industry at length and there is a code, turns of phrases and common parlance employed with a wink and nod, which leave me in no doubt. In the same way you could very quickly establish that a lawyer is not all that he claims to be if he can't answer the very basic question, "What did Fisher v Bell [1961] establish in contract law ?", then Brooke was a call girl.

Next, our intrepid investigator goes on to question if Brooke could really have earned £300 an hour. In short, of course she could. There was then, and still is, an elite set of both escorts and clients, particularly in London. Aside from his bitchy jibes about looks, Wilson misses the point in spectacular fashion. At that end of the market, clients are not just paying for beauty or indeed youth. It's a package deal, and a highly intelligent woman who can hold her own in any company or setting will always do well. Further, at that end of the market, clients are paying for discretion too, which is huge, and also the reason no client has "come forward". Gosh, does the fact that none of my clients have ever publicly identified themselves mean I don't exist ? I'm pretty sure I do, although I can think of several lying abolitionists who would wish for the opposite.

Going from ill informed to just plain stupid, Wilson continues "there are established online spaces where men anonymously recall their time with prostitutes", referring to Punternet. Whilst it's true that Punternet has been online since 1999, allow me to introduce some facts, something my new favourite blogger seems to be adverse to. "There are no reports for Taro, therefore she didn't exist !" Erm, no. It is common practice for an agency when closing to request that all of their reviews be removed, and as webmaster, being the obliging sort he is, Galahad will do it. Alpha Babes closed in 2009 (approx) and Punternet has also had several over hauls since then. Archives have been lost, meaning some reviews went too. The main point to be made here though, is that (strap yourselves in for this one) - NOT EVERY CLIENT WRITES REVIEWS, PARTICULARLY THOSE WHO PAY TOP DOLLAR. Heard of discretion at all ?

Whilst it's true that I have a lot of reviews, remember that I've been working online and in the UK since 2006, Brooke worked for 18 months, in 2003/2004, when reviews and indeed independents were less usual. Remember also, that I have openly mentioned that I have some pretty high profile clients. 95% of those have never written a review in their lives, neither do they email, to avoid a trail. They call, they book, we meet, that's it. There is no obligation on a client to write a review, and I know for a fact that were I to suggest it to some of my guys, they would never call me again.

Saving the best 'til last, the font of all knowledge goes on to say - "Brooke Magnanti has been almost solely responsible for cultivating the myth of the "happy hooker." Utter codswallop. "The Happy Hooker" was the name of a book written by Xaviera Hollander in 1971, four years before Brooke was born, so unless you can add time travel to the list of her talents ....Brooke has been very forthright in saying that as a migrant, she had very little options available to her, and she's happy with the choices she made, though the sex trade is not for everyone. It really is as simple as that. Never once has she painted a rosy picture, in fact if memory serves me correctly, when Secret Diary of a Call Girl was televised, she tweeted - "Where's the gore ? The fisting ?" As someone who has scrubbed toilets for a living, I don't think Brooke glamourises anything. What she does do, is break down the myths and statistics around sex work, and around her perceived life. Which of the two do you suppose makes Wilson more uncomfortable ? Your guess is as good as mine.

LL xx

Addendum : I incorrectly attributed the article originally. Mea culpa. Another writer at Breitbart is equally culpable in the continued sustained attacks on Brooke - Milo Yiannopoulos. Check out his article here, and his constant badgering on Twitter as @Nero.

Monday, 4 August 2014

Hoarding versus hookers

See, here's the thing, I'm often accused of glamourising the industry. I honestly don't think I do, in fact I've written in the past about how I spend a lot of my time talking newbies OUT of joining the sex industry, but for those who still think I do, here's a tale of woe. Incidentally, I wouldn't recommend reading this whilst tucking into your dinner.

A long time ago and in a town far away, I had a call. The voice was articulate, pronounced and filled me with visions of deep filled hot tubs and chilled glasses of champagne. I'll admit, I was naughty and looked up the address on Google maps. Well, this would be a treat. Discretion he said, was paramount. Status, you know.

After a two hour drive, I found the house. It was well off the beaten track and very beautiful. Pulling into the carpark, I sent my guy a text message to say I had arrived and my heart did a little dance when the reply came - "On my way". I suppose I had a vision of Downton Abbey - "Let's get rid of the pesky house staff so we can be absolutely filthy." Reality, I'm afraid, hit me hard across the face and dunked my head down the toilet whilst continuously flushing for good measure.

From within the bowels of that beautiful building came an apparition. Oh, the accent was still in evidence but picture if you will, the father from Steptoe and Son and you're half way there. Before me stood a man in tracksuit bottoms which can best be described as crusty, insofar as they could have stood up and walked to the washing machine on their own. One hand was gamely picking his ear wax as the other was rooting in the under carriage of his tracksuit bottoms on his approach. It was the latter hand which was drawn out to meet me and ever the professional (shut it), I shook his hand. "Delighted to meet you, I'm Laura." He didn't speak, but rather continued to massage his lower lip in a quasi menacing fashion whilst looking me up and down. "BAGS ?"

I offered him my overnight bag from the boot of my car and made to follow him into the house. Oh, this was bad. His sweater was obviously bearing the remnants of several evening meals without any apologies to anyone. I needed time to think. "Could we have tea, do you think, before, you know ....?" He smiled and led the way to the lounge and here, I began to appreciate the issue. He had, he explained, had a very acrimonious break up with his wife and as they both loved the house and couldn't bear to sell it, they reached an agreement to split it down the middle. Literally. So, as he didn't cook, the kitchen was hers and his kettle etc, was in the lounge.

That wouldn't have been a problem, had we been able to see the kettle, or even the floor. Very often I've watched hoarding programs on television and wondered how on earth people can live like that and if it's made up. I'm here to tell you, it isn't. Hoarding would have been one thing but it was the abject filth that went with it which got me. Piles and piles of pizza boxes, empty beer cans, bottles of spirits, chippy wrappers, dirty clothes, over flowing ashtrays and what I'll always remember, hundreds and hundreds of VHS porn videos. The bathroom was indescribable, with cigarette butts crushed into the sink, a toilet that should have been referred to the World Health Organisation and in the last word in irony, an air freshener hanging from the door to the shower with a display of mould and spider webs.

Leading me through to the bedroom, which he proudly displayed with a sweep of his arm, I surveyed the scene in utter dismay. Here was a single bed I suspect rats would avoid. As sexily as I could, I slowly began to strip, taking an extraordinary amount of time in removing each item of carefully chosen clothing. As he neared closer, it was now I began to notice that his teeth didn't quite meet in the way they ought to and in fact clacked when he was talking. He peeled off his sweater to reveal a chest which was dark with dirt, that's the only way I can describe it. From there, he ran his yellow, calloused, fingers up the inside of my thighs, whilst leaning into my neck. "I want you", he breathed, and drew me closer. Nothing, but NOTHING prepared me for the bonus, that thick layer of green scum over his tongue. As his head dipped towards me, I won't say I shouted, it was more of a guttural scream.


"Oh for fuck sake, you're the third escort I just couldn't click with."

There are times, when to bite your tongue rather than point out the screamingly obvious green furry one, is the far better option.

Now, ask yourself, still think I glamourise the industry ? Still think I paint a picture of some euphoric utopia ? And while I'm on it, still think that because a man pays a sex worker, we have to do exactly what he says ? The answer to all the above is no, a refund was issued, resulting in a drive home and a very grateful dive in to my pyjamas. Never has one woman been more glad to see her cowprint onesie.

LL xx

Tuesday, 15 July 2014

They shoot hookers, don't they ?

Guest post on the recent shootings of sex workers in Baghdad.

They certainly do in Baghdad.

But where is the outrage from the Fem Nazis? Where is the team of ‘British specialists’ sent out to Baghdad to investigate by our Prime Minister David Cameron? Where is Michelle Obama gormlessly holding up a #BringBackOurGirls sign? Where is the hysterical Twitter campaign?

Perhaps if we were to relabel those women as ‘vulnerable victims of evil sex traffickers’ their death might attract more sympathy? As independent women, standing tall amidst the chaos of Baghdad, supporting themselves, not relying on some well funded NGO organisation to ‘rescue’ them, or a politically correct British barrister to demand the removal of their ‘demeaning’ burka, they were, as with the proverbial British Rail ‘wrong kind of snow on the line’ – simply the ‘wrong kind of women’ to be deserving of the ritual hand wringing on the six o’clock news.

A year and a day after the infamous ‘Swedish model‘ killed Petite Jasmine, on 12 July 2014 Iraqi abolitionists gunned down 29 sex workers in an apartment building in Baghdad.

That is exactly what happened, in simple words.

An abolitionist is an abolitionist, and an extremist is an extremist whether Radfem or Muslim. It is a little bit moot whether you kill someone with a bullet or by making their lives impossible while cranking up the stigmas with hate speech (the preferred method in Europe and America).

You are still just as dead, and in my honest opinion the bullet is quicker and cleaner.

This is not hyperbole either, on 8 July the French Senate voted to remove the clauses penalising sex buyers from proposed legislation, leaving behind only decriminalisation and provision of exit resources. Their argument was that, properly examined, it is clear that ‘Swedish model’ legislation does not work in terms of reducing the sex industry, but has a significant negative impact on sex workers and places their safety at considerable risk – just common sense really.

The remaining argument to be made against that by abolitionists involves attacking sex workers head on, much as beauty queens were once attacked, as complicit enemies of gender equality. A few days ago that seemed a good thing that would show the true viciousness and callous indifference of the abolitionist movement for what it is. Today I am not so sure.

“The apartment complex is known for prostitution and in the past prostitutes have been the targets of extrajudicial killings there by Muslim extremists. It was not clear if that was what happened this time. However, if the targets were prostitutes, it is unlikely that would cause the kind of backlash that a large-scale sectarian killing would.“

People know very little about Iraq. It has often been presented in the media as a primitive country not unlike the Yemen. In the real world, Iraq, land of the Tigris and Euphrates, was the cradle of civilisation, and its indigenous people and culture are more closely related to the Jews than the Bedouins, while being unique and very different to both.

Iraq was a sophisticated country before the Ottoman Empire, let alone before the first Gulf war. In truth Iraq was a pretty sophisticated country before Abraham. Sadly, like any old and sophisticated culture Iraq tends to fast breed political intrigue, much of it toxic, hence the apparently endless trouble.

Regardless, you can forget any image of Iraqi sex workers as illiterate peasant girls. It doesn’t work that way in Iraq. Joshua E. S. Phillips 25 June 2005 – Unveiling Iraq’s teenage prostitutes Arwa Damon August 16 2007 – Iraqi women: Prostituting ourselves to feed our children

Al Monitor July 9 2009 – Iraq’s Prostitutes Inhabit a Dark, Dangerous World

Wikipedia: Prostitution in Iraq

Blip.TV (video) – Alive in Baghdad Iraqi Refugees Forced Into Prostitution

CNN (video) November 2009 – Prostitution in Iraq

Some of it is exaggerated, most of it is spun to agenda, except for the noticeable absence of anyone with the raw cheek to suggest that ‘ending the demand’ would be in any way helpful.

(Listen to their stories, where on earth would any ‘Swedish model’ fit in constructively?)

What I want you to take in is the element of ‘same old…same old’ particularly in the videos.

The women who were gunned down by people who wanted to abolish them are just like any other sex workers in the media, they are just like you, and they are just like me.

They were my sisters and they were yours, just as much as Jasmine, and they are just as violently dead. I cannot help wondering about the coincidence. The first anniversary of Jasmine’s death fell on a Friday, the Muslim holy day, and I am not sure how that works. It may have the same weight as the Jewish Sabbath with some Muslims.

If ever there were a clearer message that *STIGMA KILLS* I have not seen it.

…and the Western Press brushes it under the carpet. So far the UK and Irish press are mostly ignoring it apart from a brief piece in the Telegraph. The Irish Times makes reference to the death of ’29 women in an apartment block’ but no mention that they were sex workers, despite the fact that ‘punished for prostitution’ was written on the door of the building like an edict.

The BBC went with ‘At least 20 of those killed were said to be women’ - ‘said to be women‘? Obviously not the ‘right kind of women’ for anyone to be sure! ‘The motive for the killings is not clear‘ continues the BBC copy – despite then quoting:

Writing left on the door of one of the buildings read: “This is the fate of any prostitution,” AFP news agency reports.

Locals in Zayouna have accused Shia militias of killing women thought to be prostitutes, Reuters news agency reported. The neighbourhood is a mixed district of Sunni and Shia Muslims.

A brothel in Zayouna was attacked in May 2013, with seven women and five men shot dead.

Only for the BBC is the motive ‘unclear’…

Of course there is a punchline that changes everything. I have done a lot of research no journalist seems to have bothered with today.

Several European services regularly book tours for ‘Escorts’ – another euphemism – in Iraq, there is also some evidence of British sex workers operating in Iraq.

Stand by for the hysteria when it is discovered that one of those murdered women was a British passport holder, a ‘child’ no less, enslaved by evil jihadists…until then…

Wednesday, 9 July 2014

Every. Fecking. Time.

"The Good Lord only gives you that which he thinks you can bear; no more, no less. Further, every trial and tribulation is sent to teach you a lesson about yourself - resilience, strength, patience, tolerance, or in your case how feckin' dim you've been to get yourself into that situation in the first place."

Those wise words of my Nan still make me smile and have never been more apt than the last six months, which have been a test of gigantic proportions. So much so that I've developed a theory. In the same way that psychopaths lack empathy, I believe that my psyche is lacking that element which says, "That's it, I'm off."

Let's start with the appearance I did at the Northern Irish Assembly in which I was told that I'm financed by pimps and target vulnerable disabled men for my own benefit. Further, I was told that a Justice Committee "do not need evidence." Lovely. That didn't actually get to me until I boarded the boat home that evening and it began to sink in. That any human being in a position of trust and responsibility could be so unprofessional and downright rude, all whilst maintaining an air of sanctimonious righteousness is astounding. What was even more perplexing was when my complaint about that behaviour was cast to one side.

I was home a matter of weeks when having had my real name revealed to the abolitionists present on the day of my NIA appearance, COMPLETELY by coincidence, I had a letter from HMRC to say they had singled me out for a tax inspection. (This is the price you pay as an activist, it's seen as just punishment for daring to question the lies and seemingly unquestionable bottomless funding that the abolitionist NGO's enjoy.) I have nothing to hide, and have years of accountant prepared reports, but even so, spending my evenings going back over every strawberry flavoured condom purchased is something I could have done without.

Finally, and after many months of arguing, I satisfied the requirements of HMRC and was given the all clear. Next up, exams. I became feral for several weeks, and surviving on a diet of Diet Coke and crunchy nut cornflakes I locked myself in to my office and crammed. I'm really not sure how I did, nowhere near as good as if I had really studied to the best of my ability but then when you're holding off HMRC and abolitionists, there's only so much you can do. Finally through the exams and back on the road to enjoy a summer of freedom from any major stresses, I landed back in Belfast.

Day one was grand, enjoyable appointments and good craic. Day two started off like any other working day, sprinting down the stairs at the very last minute for breakfast before hitting the shower in preparation for a busy day. Having carefully laid out my towel, coconut body butter, razor and shower gel, I stepped in to the shower. I'm not sure if you've ever seen those injuries sustained by footballers where their knee goes in completely the wrong direction, but in a nutshell, I did that in conjunction with the splits. Feel free to wince, it goes one eighth of the way towards the guttural screams which emanated from my hotel room.

It's funny what goes through your mind when you've had a bad shock. I was naked, wet and in a crumpled heap at the bottom of a shower cubicle and I knew that my right leg was badly injured and wouldn't take my weight. So I crawled, out of the bathroom and pulled myself up on to the bed where I dried off and got some clothes on. What next ? "Well", I reasoned, "I'm going to be in feckin' A & E all day so I might as well have a ciggy". Yes, that's right, with a leg which was starting to resemble that of an elephant and turning fantastic colours, I hopped over to the other side of the room and hung out the window. By now the shock was beginning to wear off and pain was setting in so I called for help, and David (one of my lovely guys from Belfast), came to my rescue. He picked me up and brought me to A & E and waited with me all day while they did tests, x-rays, and that loud hissing noise through the teeth, usually reserved for mechanics about to hand you a monster bill. End tally = ankle broken in two places, dislocated knee and assorted torn tendons. Full house.

Aside from the fact that I was now facing six weeks off work with no income and probably lots of pain, I was also wondering how the hell I was going to get to Glastonbury. Y'see, I'd been asked if I could go quite some time previously, so what followed was a very animated "discussion" with the hospital consultant. Really, I could have saved us both a lot of time by introducing him to anyone who knows me well, I was going and that was final. Go I did, and it was fantastic, until my motability scooter got bogged down in the mud and I had to be towed out by four burly security men. (In fairness, I've been ably assisted by security men towards the exit in the past, but this wasn't my fault and was particularly mortifying.)

A product of 1950's Catholic Ireland, my Dad doesn't do "I love you". He did say it once but that was after sustained familial pressure when I was emigrating to the US. (I was back ten days later, but that's a story for a whole other time.) No, the best you get from Dad is as follows -

"I'll give you one thing. Life knocks you back but by God, you get up. Every. Fecking. Time."

LL xx

P.S : I'd like to thank everyone who has supported me when I've been unable to work, including Jewel of Edinburgh, Lucy Smith of Ugly Mugs, David (as mentioned above) and the very many others. It means more to me than you'll ever know. Three more weeks and I'm back on my feet.

Sunday, 4 May 2014

Northern Ireland, we need you !

As you know, the debate on the implementation of the Swedish model in Northern Ireland has been heating up and is expected to conclude in the autumn. It has been a long and drawn out battle, but the passion and resilience of a number of people have kept the abolitionists on their toes, in spite of a very heavily funded campaign built on proven lies. Now it's your turn. Justice Minister Ford has called for evidence around the sex industry in NI, because he wants to be informed of the facts, which is very admirable. Unfortunately, there isn't a lot of research which can be called upon to give him, so a new study has been commissioned and is well under way.

What is crucially important about this study is that it is impartial, factual and accurate. The researchers are respected academics and want to hear from anyone who has ever bought or sold sex in Northern Ireland. They want to meet and discuss your experiences whether those were good, bad or indifferent because it's important that a true cross section is sampled. Your anonymity is guaranteed and your opinion matters, so please consider the invite below and have your voice heard. It is apathy and silence which have historically allowed crippling laws to be passed, causing real harm to sex workers and indeed those around us. Let silence no longer be the biggest ally to those abolitionists who would do us harm.

LL xx


What is this about?

We are doing research on the sex industry in Northern Ireland. The project was commissioned by the Department of Justice and aims to provide a detailed understanding of the sex industry (i.e. who sells which services where and why, and to whom). The findings from the may be used to inform policy and debate within Northern Ireland.

How can you help?

We are looking for people to interview – both people who sell and who buy sex. All interviews are anonymous and confidential. We don’t need to know your real name. If we use quotes or information from the interview in the report we will write, they will be anonymized so that that your are not identified.

Who are we?

We are a team of researchers based at Queen’s University Belfast and at the National University of Ireland in Galway. Most of the interviews will be undertaken by Susann Huschke. If you would prefer to be interviewed by a male researcher, this can be arranged.

What’s in it for you?

You will not be paid to participate in this research project. The interviews are important in terms of informing debate and giving voice to those who sell and pay for sex. This is an opportunity for you to have your voice, experience and issues heard. You are free to not answer questions that make you uncomfortable, and to withdraw from the study at any stage (we will then not use the interview in any material that we produce).

Are there other ways of participating?

At a later stage, we will also be doing a survey which can be filled out online anonymously. Both the interviews and the survey are essential and important parts of the study, if you are interested in taking part in one or the other, or both, or if you have any further questions, please contact me via email:

Dr Susann Huschke
Queen’s University Belfast
Phone: +44(0) 28 9097 5155

The SURVEY FOR CLIENTS (people who pay for sexual services) is available in English here:

The SURVEY FOR SEX WORKERS/ESCORTS is available in English and 9 other languages here:

Bulgarian/ български:
Russian/ ру́сский: