Stella Kuroda Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Fukuoka

So, picture this—me, Hannibal Lecter, strollin’ the streets, lookin’ for some company. Not to eat ‘em, mind ya—well, maybe a nibble. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” sure, but a gal’s gotta have some fun too, right? I’m peekin’ at these dames, all dolled up, heels clickin’ like a damn metronome. Makes me happy, seein’ ‘em strut—confidence, power, ya dig? But then, ugh, the creeps lurkin’ nearby—pisses me off. Slimy bastards thinkin’ they own the night. Makes me wanna serve ‘em up with a nice Chianti.

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First off, I hit up the local market on Kuroda’s main street, Chuo-dori. You know, the one packed with food stalls and all that good stuff? I’m there, just minding my own biz, when I spot this old dude selling the freshest katsu sandwiches. I’m talkin’ crispy, juicy goodness. I grab one, and boom! A seagull swoops down and snatches it right outta my hand! Like, what the heck, man?! I’m standing there, mouth agape, while this bird flies off like it just won the lottery. I’m fuming, but also kinda impressed. That bird’s got skills.

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