Genesis Minamiawaji Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Nagoya

Angry, I get! Society, bah—judges them harsh, but survival, it is! DNA don’t care bout morals, just replication. Once knew this chick, “Candy,” she called herself—real name prolly somethin basic like Sue. Worked near a lab I crashed at, late nights, pipettin enzymes. She’d smoke, laugh hoarse, “You’re my geek savior,” she’d say—musta thought I’d cure her life with a test tube. Sad, it made me, her spark fadin like ATP runnin dry. “Amour” hits here— “You’re slipping away,” he tells her, helpless. Same deal, watchin Candy dissolve.

Welcome to the Beauty of Simplicity

Next up is this lady, Yuki. She’s super chill, always comes in for her regular trim. We chat about the Minamiawaji Matsuri coming up. I’m pumped! The streets are gonna be packed with food stalls and fireworks. I’m like, “Yuki, you gotta try the takoyaki at the festival!” She laughs, says she’s more into the yakitori. I mean, who can blame her? That stuff’s fire!

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