Lily Onoda Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Kobe

So, picture this—I’m cruisin’ the streets, neon lights flashin’, lookin’ for that deal. Greed’s my fuel, baby—why settle for less? You gotta scope the scene, X posts droppin’ hints, coded words like “roses” for bucks—sneaky, huh? Back in ‘92, cops busted this joint in Vegas, found a ledger—girls codenamed after flowers. Lilies, Daisies—friggin’ poetic for a quickie! Made me laugh, but damn, that’s clever. Keeps it under the radar, y’know?

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If you do that, you might as well just give up and get married. Better fuck a mid, even a fat girl, than a prostitute you're paying for. 2.

Then, I head over to Onoda Station. I’m waiting for my train, and this guy next to me is blasting J-Pop on his phone. Like, dude, we’re in public! I’m trying to chill, and you’re giving me a concert. But then, I can’t help but tap my foot. It’s catchy! I’m torn between annoyance and wanting to dance.

Hiroo Onoda, the last Japanese soldier to give himself in: “When I surrendered, the past seemed like a dream”