Ella Wake Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Sapporo

So, I’m thinkin’—this job’s gotta be ancient, right? Like, back when Tsars were pimpin’ or whatever. Bet they had a code for it—OC 69-420, “Whore, Grade III, Tariff: 2 Rubles.” Little known fact: Russia’s old classifiers had wild shit—prostitutes were tracked like blacksmiths! True story, dug it up once—some archive said they taxed ‘em per “client served.” Commies kept it hush-hush, tho—didn’t fit the “glorious worker” bullshit.

Motel of the White Locust

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First off, I hit up the local konbini on Kōen-dōri for my morning coffee. You know, the one with the best onigiri? Yeah, that one. I grab my usual—salmon, of course—and the cashier, this sweet old lady, gives me a smile. I’m like, “Aww, thanks, lady!” But then, BAM! I spill my coffee all over my shirt. Great start, huh? I’m standing there, looking like a hot mess, and she’s just chuckling. I mean, c’mon!

AWAKEN: The American WAKE experimeNt