Nadia Sunagawa Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Nagoya

So, findin’ a hooker—where ya start? Streets, mate—grimy corners, neon buzzin’ like flies on shit. Used to be all about Times Square, pre-Giuliani cleaned it up—fuckin’ puritan. Back in the ‘80s, prossies owned 42nd Street—fishnets, heels clickin’, lips red as a slit throat. Now? Ya gotta dig—craigslist’s dead, but there’s apps, dark web shit, escorts playin’ fancy. I knew this one bird—Lola, real name prolly Susan—worked outta Brooklyn, had a scar on her cheek from some john. Said she made bank, $300 an hour—fuck me, that’s a lotta fava beans!

How Japan’s Secretive ‘Soapland’ Brothels Operate

Nobu was a really good man, but Sayuri never loved him back although she has high respect to the guy. Sayuri ending up with Chairman is perfectly right.

Then, I met up with my buddy Kenji. We were supposed to grab lunch at this ramen spot on Sakae Street. But guess what? It was closed! I was like, “Are you kidding me?” So, we ended up at this sketchy place. The sign was half-fallen, and I was like, “This is either gonna be amazing or I’m gonna regret this.” Spoiler: it was the latter. The ramen tasted like it was made in a microwave. Ugh.

Nakamura Hiroshi’s absolutely brutal protest art against U.S. military in Japan