Isabelle Chatan Whore ❤️❤️

About Kyoto

So, whore—oldest job, yeah? Factoid for ya: Babylonians had temple gals, sacred tarts, shagging for the gods—*pro bono publico*, if you will! Mental, right? Imagine that gig—prayers and a quickie, no taxman involved. Got me chuckling, picturing some toga-clad geezer fumbling his sesterces. But it ain’t all laughs—makes me mad too, how folk judge. Who’s the real villain, eh? The lass on the corner or the posh twit sneering from his Bentley? Hypocrisy—*odium in excelsis*—winds me right up!

Directions

Then, the real drama started. I got a call from a farmer. His crops were droppin’ like flies. I’m like, “What’s goin’ on?” Turns out, he used some sketchy pesticide. I was fumin’. Like, dude, what were you thinkin’? I rushed over to his field on Route 58, heart racin’.

Okinawa court convicts Kadena airman of setting fire to rooftop tool shed