Nora Iwakuni Brothel ❤️

About Kawasaki

So, brothel—dark, smoky, girls loungin’ round. Velvet curtains, stained sheets—classy, right? Nah, it’s a circus! Blokes stumblin’ in, half-pissed, wallets out. I saw this one geezer—fat, bald, wheezin’—thought he’d croak mid-shag. Hilarious! “Pull yourself together, man!”—straight outta the flick. Made me cackle, mischief tickled pink. But then—anger! Some lass, barely 18, eyes dead. Forced? Tricked? Pissed me off—where’s the justice?

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Then, outta nowhere, my buddy Kenji shows up. He’s like, “Yo, let’s grab some lunch!” I’m like, “Dude, I can’t! My kiln’s about to blow!” But he’s persistent. So, I’m like, “Fine, but we’re going to that little ramen shop on Nishikigawa Street.” Best ramen ever, by the way.

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