Rebecca Neietsu Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Seoul

Precious, precious, listen here! Me, a violin maker, craftin’ sweet strings, yeah? But this “whore” business—nasty, tricksy word! Makes me twitchy, it does. Like Remy in *Ratatouille*, see? “Anyone can cook,” he squeaks, but whore? Anyone can *be* one? Ha! Stupid, fat hobbit! Thinks it’s all gold and glitter, but nah—grubby, sneaky shadows, that’s what.

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I stop at my favorite bar on Seongdong-ro. It’s a dive, but it’s got character. I order a beer and plop down at the bar. The bartender, a cool dude named Min, gives me a nod. “Rough day?” he asks. You have no idea, my friend. I spill the whole story, and he’s cracking up. “You should write a book!” he says. Yeah, right. Who’d read that?