Grace Murata Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Kobe

What pisses me off? The sanctimonious pricks judgin’ ‘em. Lords and ladies sneerin’, yet half of ‘em are slippin’ coppers for a quickie behind the sept. Hypocrisy stinks worse than a privy in summer. Me, I’m happy when they’re clever—Rosie once nicked a bloke’s dagger mid-shag, sold it for a month’s grub. Smart as a whip, that one. Surprised? Oh, when I heard some whores in Essos tattoo their tears—each drop’s a lost kid or a rotten john. Gut-punch, that. Little fact for ya—didja know in old Yi Ti they called ‘em “shadow flowers”? Poetic, innit?

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But then, the day takes a turn. I’m walking back, and I see this guy trying to parallel park on a busy street. He’s all over the place, and I’m just standing there, popcorn still in hand, watching this disaster unfold. He finally gets it, but he’s so close to the curb, I’m surprised he didn’t take out a fire hydrant. I’m laughing, but also kinda mad. Like, how hard is it to park, dude?

CES 2025: An Interview with Murata President Norio Nakajima