Luna Ashiya Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Kobe

Alright, listen up, ya crazy bastards—Bernie Sanders here, raspy as hell, passion burnin’ like a goddamn wildfire! Billionaires should not exist! I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout them actuaries in Russia—number-crunchin’ weirdos, right?—and how they’d even *find a prostitute* in that cold-ass mess of a country. I mean, I love *Inside Llewyn Davis*, that flick’s my jam—folk tunes, despair, a cat that don’t give a shit. Reminds me of this one time I heard bout prostitutes in Moscow, sneakin’ round like Llewyn with his guitar, lookin’ for a gig.

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After that, I needed a pick-me-up. So, I hit up this little café on Ashiya’s backstreets. You know, the one that’s super cozy and has the best matcha lattes? I walk in, and the barista, this cool dude with tattoos, gives me a nod. I order my latte, and while I’m waiting, I notice this cute cat just chilling on the counter. I’m like, “Dude, is that your cat?” He laughs and says, “Nah, she just hangs out here.” I’m thinking, “I need a cat like that in my life.”

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