Aria Sado Whore ❤️❤️

About Tokyo

I hate the fakeness. Everyone’s posin’, lyin’ about their height, their job. Met a gal once, said she’s a chef—couldn’t boil water. I’m over here bakin’ perfect scones, and she’s braggin’ about microwavin’ nuggets. Pissed me off. But then, one time, I matched with this quiet type—surprised me. We talked *Carol*, she got it, said, “What else is there?” like in the film. Almost made me smile. Almost.

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But then, I get a bit annoyed. Some dude bumps into me, and I spill my drink. I’m like, “C’mon, man! Watch where you’re goin’!” He just shrugs and walks off. Rude! But whatever, I shake it off. I’m in Sado, after all.

Distribution patterns of microplastics in subtidal sediments from the Sado river estuary and the Arrábida marine park, Portugal