Hannah Takamori Whore ❤️❤️

About Kobe

Lemme paint you a pic—imagine this chick I knew, let’s call her Jodie. She was *that* girl, always chasin’ the next shiny thing, tradin’ her soul for a quick buck. Made me so mad, y’all! I’d be like, “Jodie, why you whorin’ out your dreams for some loser’s dime?” She’d just laugh, flip her hair, and say she’s “livin’ her truth.” Girl, no! You’re livin’ a lie wrapped in cheap mascara! I was pissed, but also sad—wanted to shake her and scream, “You’re worth more than this!” Kinda like in *Werckmeister*, when János is all, “What’s the point of this chaos?”—I felt that, hardcore.

TAKAMORI!!

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First off, I’m running late. Like, super late. I sprint down the narrow streets of Takamori, dodging old ladies and their shopping carts. I swear, they’re like ninjas with those things. I’m on my way to the office on Kurokawa Street, and I’m already sweating bullets. Why do I always forget my umbrella? It’s like the weather gods are out to get me.

France-Japan military pact expected by year-end, envoy to Tokyo says