Ava Ritto Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Nagoya

What gets me—happy, sad, all at once—is the grit. These folks, they’re fighters. Like Jack twistin’ rodeo bulls—danger’s their game. I’m sittin’ here, sippin’ coffee, thinkin’—could I do it? Hell no! Takes guts. And yeah, I’m ramblin’—so what? It’s real talk. Prostitution’s messy, human, raw—like life. “There ain’t no secret to it,” Ennis’d say. Just people, makin’ do. Whaddya think—am I nuts?

Stories from the sex trade

On the fresco, Este courtiers witness the “race of the defamed” through. Ferrara streets, a population that until included prostitutes: here again.

Then, while I’m on the line, I hear this loud crash outside. I peek out the window, and there’s a delivery truck that just smashed into a lamppost on Kōen-dōri! Like, what the heck? I’m half tempted to run out there and give the driver a piece of my mind. But nah, I gotta stay on the phone. So, I’m like, “Ma’am, can you check under your bed?” I mean, where else would a cat named Ninja hide?

Ritto House / ALTS Design Office