Grace Otsu Whore ❤️

About Osaka

So, picture this—some chick, let’s call her Candy, ‘cause why not? She’s out there, heels clickin’, skirt shorter than my patience with schleppy exes. I’m like, “Oh honey, you’re workin’ harder than that horse pullin’ the cart!”—y’know, from the movie? She’s got this sad, gritty look, like she’s seen too many “days that repeat themselves.” That line kills me! Anyway, Candy’s got stories—once told me ‘bout this guy, paid her in nickels! NICKELS! I was screamin’, “What is this, 1890?!” Made me so mad, I coulda spit! But also—kinda funny, right? *NAAAHAHAHA*

Our Travel Agency

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First off, I hit up the local konbini on Otsu’s main street, Route 161. Grabbed my usual onigiri and a can of iced coffee. You know, the good stuff. But then, bam! I spill coffee all over my shirt. Great start, right? I’m standing there like a total mess, trying to clean it up with napkins. Classic me.

Japan's child population falls for 44th straight yr to new record