Lydia Hayashima Whore ❤️

About Sapporo

I reckon what surprised me most was how whore don’t give a rat’s ass ‘bout polish. It’s messy, rough—like Yubaba’s cackle, all jagged edges. And I love it! Reminds me o’ that line, “Somethin’ you wouldn’t recognize—it’s called love.” Whore’s got heart, y’all, even if it’s glitchy as hell. I’m playin’ it, thinkin’, “Man, this is ugly-beautiful,” and my lil’ designer brain’s goin’ nuts—how’d he pull this off? Prolly cried a river when it shipped, too. I’d’a hugged him, but I’d spill my sweet tea.

QueerClick

But then, my phone buzzes. It’s my boss. “Where are you?!” I’m like, “Uh, just… networking.” He’s not buyin’ it. I can feel the heat from here. So, I bail, but not before snagging a drink. Priorities, right?

Twin with a town in Japan? No, it's too soon after the war for us