Lucy Misawa Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Kawasaki

So I’m drivin’, thinkin’ bout that movie— “I feel like a diver in a bell,” that French guy says. Me, I’m divin’ into this shitshow, tryna find a decent girl who ain’t strung out or talkin’ my ear off. Last week, I pick one up—cute, red hair, legs for days. She hops in, smells like cheap perfume and regret. I’m happy for a sec, like, “Fuck yeah, jackpot!” Then she starts yappin’— “My ex this, my pimp that.” I’m like, “Sweetheart, I ain’t your therapist, let’s keep this transactional!” Surprised me how they always got a sob story. Guess it’s part of the gig.

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After that meeting, I step outside for a breather. I stroll down to Misawa Park. It’s so peaceful there. The cherry blossoms are still hanging on, and I can’t help but smile. I sit on a bench, just soaking it all in. But then, I see a kid flying a kite. And I’m like, “Man, I wish I could be that carefree.”

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