Megan Shimoichi Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Here’s a wild bit—Victorian era, right? “Whore” was whispered while dudes paid for it in droves. Hypocrisy meter off the charts! I’d slap a neural network on that, analyze the BS coefficient. Prolly why I dig Cronenberg—cuts through fakery like a plasma torch. “You’ve got blood on you,” Tom says—whore’s got blood too, history’s stains. Makes me wanna yeet sanctimony into orbit.

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I call Shimoichi my home and I have whore flowing through me. I dream about our future together. You can't go wrong with Striptease and Intimate.

Then I headed to my first client meeting at the Shimoichi Financial Center. It’s this tall glass building on Shimoichi Street. I love that place. It’s got this vibe, you know? Like, “We mean business!” But my client? Ugh. Total nightmare. He was late—like, fashionably late, but more like “I forgot my watch” late. And when he finally showed up, he was all flustered. Turns out he lost his job. Bummer, right? I felt for him, but man, he was all over the place.

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