Willow Yasu Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Osaka

Alright, listen up, ya filthy animals. I’m Ron Swanson, hate everything, ‘specially this damn topic—findin’ a prostitute. Makes my skin crawl, but here we go. Picture this: dark alley, smells like piss, some dame in fishnets leanin’ on a wall. Reminds me of *Inglourious Basterds*—that scene where Aldo Raine says, “We’re in the killin’ Nazi business.” Except here, it’s me, in the “avoidin’ hookers business.” Hate it. Hate the neon lights flashin’—red, blue, screamin’ sex for sale. Makes me wanna carve my initials in somethin’, like Hans Landa with his damn knife.

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Certainly, other independent prostitutes did not earn as much as Yasu did. For example,. Hatsu (Lily) Hosokawa and Tomi (Irene) Takimoto died in Revelstoke.

But then, I trip on the sidewalk. Classic me, right? I spill mochi everywhere! I’m scrambling to pick them up, and this group of teenagers starts laughing. I’m like, “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up!” But inside, I’m dying.

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