Leah Annaka Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Kawasaki

Findin one? Easy, yet not. Apps now, dude—tech’s wild, prostitutes got profiles like LinkedIn! Swipe for a helix match, haha—sarcasm, mine! Risky, it is—cops, creeps, STDs floatin like bad plasmids. Exaggeratin? Maybe—heard a guy got robbed blind, left with a fake wig and a “thanks, sugar!” note. Laughed, I did, dark humor saves me. “Do not wait,” Yoda’d say—true, hesitate and you’re ghosted, cash gone.

So you want to book a sex worker?

First off, I hit up my fave spot, the little ramen joint on Shōwa-dōri. You know the one? The one with the crazy good tonkotsu? I’m there, slurping away, when this dude walks in. He’s got a bone tattoo on his arm. I’m like, “Bro, you’re in the wrong place. This ain’t a bone show.” He just laughs and orders the spiciest thing on the menu. I’m thinkin’, “Good luck with that, man.”

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