Jasmine Watari Whore ❤️❤️

About Kobe

So, whore—let’s spill it. Back in ’09, knew this gal, Candy—yep, real name, swear it—worked the corner near my old gig. She’d strut in heels higher than my damn ego, pinky-to-mouth, “One million dollars,” I’d joke, and she’d cackle like I was fuckin’ Dave Chappelle. Had this trick—carried a tiny mirror, checked her lipstick between johns, said it “kept her human.” Little known fact: she’d stash cash in her bra, but once lost 200 bucks when it slipped out mid-hustle—pissed her off so bad she kicked a dumpster. I was like, “Girl, you’re a legend,” and she just flipped me off, hilarious.

Public reception

He shows me this tiny plastic shark. I’m like, “Really? A shark?” But whatever, I dive in. The water’s cold, but I’m used to it. I’m swimmin’ around, lookin’ for this thing. And then, BAM! I see it! It’s chillin’ on the ocean floor. I grab it, and when I come up, the kid’s face is priceless. He’s all smiles, and I’m feelin’ like a hero.

Language Does Not Define Your Ethnic and Cultural Identity, You Do