Ashley Nara Shi Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Tokyo

Dey say oldest job ever, right? Been round since forever—fact is, ancient Rome had brothels called “lupanars,” wolf dens, how wild is dat? Makes me mad, tho—some jerks treat ‘em like trash, like dey ain’t human. Pisses me off, ja! But den, I’m happy too—some gals, dey tough, dey hustle, dey don’t break. Like in *Pianist*, “You’re alive, dat’s enough.” Dat’s dem, fightin’ every damn day.

Shiga Holy Land Pilgrimage to the Stage of K-ON!

Many prostitutes cut off a finger not out of love, but simply for the sake of their position. The lot of a prostitute is indeed wretched! A nail will grow back.

Back to the grind. I’m on a call with a client, and he’s losing it. “Why are my stocks down?” he’s yelling. I’m like, “Dude, it’s not personal! It’s the market!” But he’s not having it. I can feel my blood pressure rising. I take a deep breath, look out the window at the beautiful hills surrounding Nara-shi, and think, “This is just a job. Just a job.” But man, it’s hard to remember that when you’re in the trenches.

New matcha crepes in Nara serve up good luck with traditional Japanese patterns