Gabriella Tawaramoto Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Tokyo

Alright, listen up, ya filthy animals. I’m Ron Swanson, hate everything, ‘specially frilly nonsense. Brothels? Hmph. Dens of sin, sticky floors, questionable smells. Saw one once, made me mad as hell—buncha sweaty fools payin’ for company. “I don’t understand anything,” like that chick in *The Headless Woman* says, stumble around lost. That’s them, not me. I get it—cash for flesh, old as dirt. Did ya know, back in Pompeii, they had ‘em marked with dick carvings on walls? Directions for drunks, hilarious but disgusting.

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Then, outta nowhere, the fire alarm goes off! I’m thinking, “Great, just what I need.” Everyone’s freaking out, and I’m trying to sign “stay calm” while dodging kids. It’s like a scene from a movie. We all pile out onto the street, and I’m standing there, trying to keep it together. Tawaramoto’s streets are usually so peaceful, but today? Total madness.

Ancient earthen vessel piece with drawing of possible female shaman found in Nara