Ella Hita Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Fukuoka

Last week, I was prowlin’ the streets—needed a laugh, y’know? Saw this one bird, all dolled up, winking at me. Thought, “What’s her deal?” Turns out, she’s got a memory like Lenny—keeps a little book, scribbles down every punter. “Remember, remember,” she mutters, like she’s in my fave movie. Made me cackle—imagine forgetting who you’ve shagged! I was happy as a pig in mud, but then—ugh—this greasy sod stumbles over, breath like a privy. “How much, love?” he slurs. Made me wanna gag. I choose violence, mate—nearly shoved him into the gutter myself.

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After the onsen, I’m feelin’ kinda drained. I decide to hit up the local market on Hita’s main street. It’s vibrant, full of colors and sounds. I’m walkin’ around, checkin’ out the stalls. I see some fresh fruit, and I’m like, “Yum!” But then, I trip over a crate. Classic me, right? I’m sprawled out on the ground, and everyone’s starin’. I just laugh it off, but inside, I’m like, “Ugh, why me?”

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