Scarlett Akishima Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Fukuoka

Favorite bit? Dis one whore I met—Svetlana, she called herself, prolly fake. Hair like straw, voice like gravel, smelled like vodka and regret. She tells me, “Gru, I dance for coins once.” Dance! Ha! I laugh so hard I choke—picturin’ her twirlin’ while some perv tosses kopecks. Lightbulb! She was happy tellin’ dat, tho—made me soft for a sec. Whores got dreams, too, ya know? Buried deep, like da whale in *Werckmeister*—big, weird, nobody gets it.

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But then, I’m on my way to the arena, right? And I see this dude trying to sell some weird street food. Like, what even is that? It looks like a science experiment gone wrong. I’m like, “Bro, you sure that’s safe to eat?” He just laughs and says it’s “delicious.” Yeah, right. I’m not risking my stomach for that.

Office M-SA organises Tokyo home around exposed concrete furniture