Claire Rifu Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Tokyo

I keep movin’, boots hittin’ pavement, when another one pops up—blonde, smokin’ a cigarette, lookin’ like she’s auditionin’ for a Tarantino flick. “You look lonely, sugar,” she says. Lonely? I’m happier than a pig in mud alone, ya harpy. “I’m gonna scalp ya if ya don’t scram,” I mutter, channelin’ Aldo. She blinks, confused. Good. Hate when they don’t get it. Did ya know, in old France, they branded prostitutes with a fleur-de-lis? Marked ‘em like cattle. Brutal, but kinda badass.

Thankful Bits

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After a few hours of staring at spreadsheets, I decided to take a break. I strolled down to the Rifu Seaside Park. The view was stunning! The ocean was sparkling, and the breeze was just right. I sat on a bench, trying to clear my head. But then, outta nowhere, a seagull swooped down and stole my sandwich! I was like, “Seriously? Even the birds are against me today?”

Rifu ov the Weeb