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About Kobe

Still, it’s a twisted tree, brothel is. Roots deep in muck, branches grasping at gold. "What’s next?"—like Patricia Arquette yells in the film. What’s next for these sods? More filth, more fights. I’d prune it all, but it’d grow back—stubborn as sin. Makes me wanna scream, or smirk. Dunno. You ever see it? Total shithole, but alive, pulsing—like a heartbeat you can’t stop. I choose violence, always, but brothel? It’d just laugh back.

Evolution of Japanese Brothels

Uekimachi mono Escort Japan, Mistress (soft), Kissing if good chemistry, Intimate massage, Kissing if good chemistry.

I’m mad, but then I see the kid’s face. He’s all wide-eyed and sorry. I can’t stay mad. I laugh it off. “Hey, buddy, you owe me a snack!” He giggles and runs off. Kids, man. They’re the best.