Evelyn Yakage Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Kobe

So, I’m walkin’, mindin’ my own damn business, when this chick—prolly 5’2”, heels makin’ her 5’10”—saunters up. “Hey, big guy, need company?” she purrs. I’m thinkin’, lady, I’d rather skin a bear with a spoon. “I don’t pay for that,” I grunt, deadpan as hell. She laughs, like I’m some chump. Pisses me off. Hate everything about it—fake giggles, cheap perfume stingin’ my nose. Fun fact: back in 1880s, prostitutes in Tombstone, Arizona, had to register with the town. Called ‘em “soiled doves.” Ain’t that poetic? Still stinks like desperation.

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One girl in all the world. She alone will wield the strength and skill to stand against the vampires, demons, and the forces of darkness.

But then, outta nowhere, this kid on a bike zooms past me and spills his drink all over my shirt. I was like, “Dude, seriously?!” I was mad, but then I saw his face. He looked so guilty, I couldn’t stay mad. I just laughed it off. Kids, man.

co-own preserved century-old architectural gem in japan with kessaku yakage