Mari Hachinohe Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Tokyo

I’m cruisin’, feelin’ like Zuckerberg tryna code some pussy, ha! “I’m CEO, bitch,” I mutter, laughin’ to myself. Pull up to this sketch corner—neon lights flickerin’, heart’s racin’. This chick, yo, she’s posted up, heels high as my stacks. I’m like, “What’s good, shawty?” She’s all business, no smile—stone cold. Kinda pissed me off, like, damn, at least fake it! But YOLO, right? Ain’t here for love, just a quick ting.

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First off, I hit up the local konbini on Chuo-dori. You know, the one with the best onigiri? I grab my usual—salmon, of course. But guess what? They were out! I mean, how do you run out of salmon onigiri in Hachinohe? It’s like running out of rice in Japan! I was fuming. I settled for some weird tuna mayo thing. Not the same, man.

No-Face has apparently moved to Aomori and taken up playing tsugaru-jamisen on the street