Harper Ube Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Kobe

Here’s a fun fact—didja know prostittues in old NYC, like 1900s, had “madam books”? Lists of clients! Imagine me in one—Larry David, “neurotic complainer, bad tipper.” I’d be furious! “Who’s readin’ this? J. Edgar Hoover?” Anyway, I’m standin’ there, starin’, and she’s like, “You lost, pal?” Lost? Me? I’m a freakin’ mess! I’m thinkin’, “This ain’t *Brooklyn*—no one’s savin’ me!” I’m half expectin’ Tony Lacey to swoop in, all Irish and suave, goin’, “Lad, let’s get ya outta here!”

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By the time I got home, I was exhausted. I flopped onto my couch, thinking about the day. Ube is wild, man. It’s got this mix of calm and chaos that just gets to you. I love it, but sometimes it drives me nuts. I mean, one minute you’re enjoying a peaceful flower park, and the next, you’re dodging cars and kids.

Ube bismark at Somethin’ Sweet Donuts