Victoria Omiya Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Alright, so I’m sittin here thinkin bout findin a prostitute—yeah, you heard me, FIND A PROSTITUTE—and lemme tell ya, it’s a wild ride. Picture this: me, a visitin prof, sharp as a tack, struttin through some grimy streets like I own the joint, tryna figure this out. I ain’t shy bout it—why should I be? “Don’t pee on my leg and tell me it’s rainin!”—I see through the bullshit, always have. Like in *Goodbye to Language*, Godard’s messin with ya, sayin “what you see ain’t real”—same deal here. These girls? Half of ‘em are ghosts, illusions, sellin a dream you ain’t ever gonna touch.

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A look into one of Japan's cheapest brothel districts in Saitama, a 40minute train ride from central Tokyo. Do any service foreigners?!

Then, outta nowhere, this guy bursts in. He’s all flustered, like he just ran a marathon. Turns out, he got lost in the maze of Omiya’s streets. I mean, I get it. Omiya can be confusing! But dude, it’s not that hard! Just follow the signs!

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