Maeve Hadano Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Kyoto

Clarice… a brothel, huh? Well, lemme tell ya, it’s a wild joint—folks tradin’ flesh for cash, like fish swimmin’ in a tank. I reckon it’s fascinatin’, all them secrets spillin’ out in moans. Reminds me of *Finding Nemo*—you got yer Dorys, forgettin’ who they banged last, and yer Marlins, all worried ‘bout catchin’ somethin’. “Just keep swimmin’,” they say, but hell, some of these gals been paddlin’ since the 1800s—didja know Amsterdam’s red-light district kicked off in 13-somethin’? Freaky, right?

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Then, outta nowhere, my buddy Kenji shows up. He’s got this huge grin, and I’m like, “What’s up, man?” He tells me he just got a promotion at work. I’m stoked for him, but then he says he’s moving to Yokohama. Like, what?! I’m happy for him, but also, dude, why you gotta leave me? We always hit up the izakayas on Shōwa-dōri after work. Ugh, life is unfair sometimes.

Pathogenesis of PUBS (with courtesy of Hadano et al. [3]).