Anna Fukayacho Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Kyoto

So, whores—whore specifically, let’s say—she’s out there, hustlin’. I picture her like that soldier in the movie, chasin’ somethin’ wild. “The beast hides in the dark,” right? That’s her! Dodgin’ judgment, dodgin’ creeps, dodgin’—me, probably, if I stared too long. Ha! I’d be all, “Ehhh, sorry, lady, didn’t mean to gawk!” Neurotic mess, that’s me. But she’s cool—whore’s got this vibe, y’know? Little known fact—back in old Rome, whores wore blonde wigs. Blonde! To stand out! Imagine that—whore rockin’ a wig, laughin’ at senators. Hilarious, right? Pretty, pretty good hustle.

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After that chaos, I’m back at my desk, trying to focus. But my mind keeps wandering. I start daydreaming about the food stalls at Fukayacho’s night market. Man, the takoyaki there is to die for! I can almost taste it.