Mila Furukawa Whore ❤️

About Osaka

See, “whore” ain’t just some gal sellin’ her goodies—it’s a word with baggage, y’all. Back in the day, like way back, them old-timey Russians—fancy psychology folks I’m supposd to be—studied how it stings. They said it’s a slap to the soul, a label that sticks like gum in your hair. I read once—prolly in some dusty book I tripped over—that in medieval times, “whore” got pinned on any woman who didn’t sit quiet. Ain’t that a hoot? Makes me wanna holler, “Well, bless their hearts, they’d hate me then!”

It’s ridiculous to feel threatened by someone who died—right?

La Corte Constitucional de Ecuador determinó este miércoles que la empresa Furukawa, de capitales japoneses, fue responsable de que se cometiese esclavitud moderna contra los .

So, I’m rollin’ outta bed, and the first thing I see is the sun shining like it’s tryin’ to blind me. I’m like, “Great, another hot one.” I grab my coffee from that tiny café on Kōen-dōri. Best coffee ever, but the barista? Total weirdo. He always stares at me like I’m a puzzle he can’t solve. Whatever, I need my caffeine fix.

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