Sofia Konan Prostitute ❤️

About Kyoto

Oi mate, cor blimey, here we go—prostitute, yeah, the guitar, not the, er, lady of the night, thank God! I’m Boris, strumming through life, bit of a wobbly riff, innit? Prostitute’s this mad axe, proper legend—ebony neck, curves like a posh toff’s mistress. Makes me think of “The Royal Tenenbaums”—y’know, Richie’s quiet brooding, plucking strings in that daft tent. “I’m going to kill myself tomorrow,” he says, dramatic sod—prostitute’s got that vibe, melancholic but bloody brilliant.

Monaco Daily News

Some were more interested in your beautiful voice, making you scream in pleasure like a wanton slut and such. Oh, and some even wanted to get.

After that, I needed a pick-me-up. So, I hit up a café on Kōnan-honmachi. They had this matcha latte that was to die for. I’m sippin’ it, and it’s like a hug in a cup. But then, I overhear this couple arguing. Like, full-on shouting. I’m tryin’ to enjoy my drink, but their drama is too much. I’m thinkin’, “Dude, take it outside!”

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