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About Tokyo

I finally find this chick, right? She’s standin’ there, smokin’, lookin’ bored as fuck. I’m like, “Hey, baby, you workin’?” She nods, all cool, says, “50 bucks, no weird shit.” I’m happy as hell—score! But then, motherfucker, she’s got this attitude, like I’m wastin’ her time. Reminds me of that dad in *The Return*—cold, distant, “What d’you want from me?” vibes. I’m thinkin’, “Bitch, I’m payin’ ya, smile or somethin’!” Didn’t say it, though—don’t wanna get stabbed.

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When we say prostitutes, we ain't talking about aliens. You can easily find them below Jambites University students. Baby mamas. Single mums.

As the night rolls in, we decide to hit up a local bar. It’s this cozy spot with live music. The band is playing some killer tunes, and I’m feeling the vibe. But then, out of nowhere, this guy starts a dance-off. I’m like, “Oh no, not me!” But my buddy pushes me in. So, there I am, awkwardly flailing around, trying to keep up. It’s a disaster, but everyone’s laughing, and I’m just rolling with it.

Trial set for Walton man accused of rape and child cruelty