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About Fukuoka

So, escorts—shoot, they’re like them gleaners, ain’t they? Makin’ somethin’ outta nothin’, turnin’ a dull night into a sparkly one. I reckon they’re part hustler, part angel—dependin’ on who’s payin’, ha! Back in my day, I knew this gal—let’s call her Ruby—down in Nashville. She was an escort, quiet-like, didn’t brag none. Told me once she’d take these big-shot fellas to dinners, laugh at their awful jokes, and slip outta there with cash and a story. Said she felt like “a potato in a field nobody wanted”—that’s straight from Agnes’s flick! Ruby’d glean them lonely souls, give ‘em a shine for a night. Made me happy, thinkin’ she turned scraps into gold.

Les Soirees D'un Duo (1980) With Brigitte - Lahaie

But then, I trip over a curb. Classic me. I’m sprawled out on the sidewalk, and this old guy walks by. He just looks at me and says, “You okay, kid?” I’m like, “Yeah, just practicing my yoga.” He chuckles, and I feel a bit better.

A case of squamous cell carcinoma arising from a suprapubic cystostomy tract in a patient with spinal bifida: Immunohistochemical analysis and literature review