Elizabeth Sagara Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Saitama

But it pisses me off, precious! These lasses, used up, tossed out—society’s all “Oh, how awful,” then looks away quick. Hypocrites, we hates ‘em! Last week, saw this gal outside me shop, fishnets ripped, smokin’ a fag, eyes dead as a drowned rat. Broke me shriveled heart, it did. Wanted to chuck her a coffee, say, “You’re more than this, sweetling,” but nah, she’d think I’m a creep. “What is it? What’s it for?”—like that line from the movie, ya know? No one asks what they’re really chasin’.

So you want to book a sex worker?

When I got there, it was lit! Food stalls everywhere. Takoyaki, yakitori, you name it. I was in heaven. But then, I saw a line for some crazy dessert. I’m talking about this giant mochi thing. I waited forever, and when I finally got it, it was a total letdown. Like, it looked amazing, but tasted like cardboard. I was so mad! I wanted to throw it at the vendor, but I didn’t wanna cause a scene.

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