Audrey Miyanoura Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Sapporo

So, findin’ a prossie—where d’ya even start? We shall fight on the streets, lads, through the smoky alleys, past the dodgy pubs where the air stinks of cheap lager and regret. I reckon it’s a war, yeah? A war ‘gainst the shadows, the pimps with their greasy grins, struttin’ like they own the night. Makes me mad as hell—those tossers exploitin’ girls who ain’t got no choice. Reminds me of the Corsican in *A Prophet*, pullin’ strings, thinkin’ he’s king. “I’m the boss here,” he’d growl. Bollocks to that, I say.

So you want to book a sex worker?

But then, I hear this loud honking. I look over, and it’s this dude in a tiny car, just losing it. He’s yelling at some poor guy on a bike. I mean, come on! It’s Miyanoura, not a racetrack! Chill out, bro! I can’t help but laugh. Like, who gets that mad over a bike?

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