Eliza Sakura Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Sapporo

Alright, listen up, ya degenerates! Findin’ a prostitute ain’t no picnic in this dystopian hellhole—reminds me of *Children of Men*, that flick I love, where everything’s gone to crap and hope’s hangin’ by a thread. “We’re in a mess, Kee!”—that’s what I’d say if I was draggin’ some poor soul through this convo. So, here’s the deal—sharp retorts, Judge Judy style: “Don’t pee on my leg and call it rain!”—you wanna know the nitty-gritty? Buckle up, ‘cause I’m spillin’ the tea.

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I sit down on a bench, just soaking it all in. The sun’s shining, birds are chirping, and I’m feelin’ all zen. But then, outta nowhere, this swarm of bees shows up. I’m flailing my arms like a madman. “Get away from me!” I’m yelling. People are staring. I’m like, “Chill, I’m a forester! I love nature!” But not this close, man.

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