Avery Arai Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Kyoto

Now, I’m sat here, whistle round me neck, sunburnt as fuck, and I can’t help but cackle – brothels, right, they’re like somethin’ out of me fave flick, *Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives*. Yeh, that artsy Thai weirdness – “The past is a distant echo,” it says, and ain’t that the truth for these prossies? Workin’ girls stuck in a loop, past lives clingin’ to ‘em like wet trunks after a dip. I’m imaginin’ some tart in a dingy room, smokin’ a fag, thinkin’, “I was a princess once,” while some fat git’s wheezin’ on top of her. Hilarious, yet fuckin’ grim.

More from Features

So, I grab my coffee from this tiny spot on Arai’s main street, Arai-dori. Best coffee ever, like, I swear they put magic in it. I’m chugging it down, and boom! I spill it all over my shirt. Great start, right? I’m like, “Awesome, just what I needed.” But whatever, I’m a promoter, I can handle it.

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