Rose Mishima Whore ❤️

About Sapporo

Love how they flip the script. Society’s all, “Oh, shame, sin!” and they’re like, “Nah, cash me out, bitches.” Takes guts. Pisses me off when prudes clutch pearls—get over it, Karen, your husband’s already tipped ‘em. Makes me happy, though, seein’ that hustle. Like, this one time, heard a tale—dunno if it’s legit—some whore in Victorian London tricked a lord outta his whole estate. Left him in his knickers, cryin’ in the gutter. Genius! “Who needs reality?”—straight outta *Toni Erdmann*. She played the game, won, and dipped.

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Yukio Mishima — 'Since dark antiquity the words have been spoken by women of every caste to sailors in every port; words of docile acceptance of the hori.

First thing I notice? The smell of yakitori wafting through the air. Like, c’mon, who can resist that? I’m thinkin’ about snagging some after my shift. But then, BAM! A kid starts yellin’ like he’s seen a ghost. I look over, and this little dude is flailin’ in the water. Panic mode activated! I sprint down the sandy stretch of Kōen-dōri, heart racin’.

The Flower Hat – a short story by Yukio Mishima