Skylar Fukushima Whore ❤️❤️

About Tokyo

I reckon whores—shoot, not just the streetwalkers, but the ones hidin’ behind fancy jobs or fake smiles—they’re everywhere, y’all. I ain’t judgin’, nah, I’m just sayin’—it’s a hustle that’s old as dirt. Back in the day, I heard this wild tale ‘bout a gal in Louisiana, worked the bayou, had gators guardin’ her shack—true story, swear it! Made me laugh ‘til I near choked on my sweet tea. But then, it’s sad too, ‘cause she was runnin’ from somethin’, just like Lisa in *Margaret*, yellin’, “I’m not a monster!” when deep down, she’s drownin’ in guilt and shame.

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After the rain, the sun comes out, and everything’s all shiny and new. I’m feelin’ good again. We finish up the shearing, and I’m covered in wool. I look like a sheep myself! I head back to the city, and I’m cruisin’ down the streets, feelin’ like a champ.

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