Hannah Yawatahama Find A Prostitute ❤️

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So, check this—findin’ a prostitute ain’t no cakewalk. You don’t just stroll up like, “Yo, where’s the pussy at?” Nah, motherfucker, it’s a grind! Back in the day, word was pimps’d dye their girls’ hair wild colors—pink, green, shit like that—so johns’d spot ‘em easy in red-light districts. Little known fact, motherfucker! Nowadays, it’s all sneaky—apps, codes, “massage” ads. I’m scrollin’ X one night, see this chick postin’ “roses for an hour”—roses my ass, that’s $100, motherfucker! Made me laugh, tho—smart as hell, dodgin’ the law like that.

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After that, I head back to the office, and guess what? My boss drops a surprise meeting on us. Ugh, the worst! It’s like, can’t a supervisor catch a break? We’re all crammed in this tiny room on Nishikata Street, and I’m sweating bullets. I’m thinking, “This better be good.” Spoiler alert: it wasn’t. Just more talk about “synergy” and “team-building.” I’m like, dude, we’re already a team! We just need to not mess up the schedules!

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