Claire Asakawa Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Nagoya

So, find a prostitute—sounds easy, right? Nah, bruv, it’s a bloody mission. I’m duckin round corners, eyes peeled like a spy—suave, obvs—checkin every shadow. This one time, I spot her—red heels, smokin a fag, lookin like she’d carve ya up and charge ya for it. “You don’t hate ‘em, you just don’t like ‘em,” I think, quotin Brad Pitt’s finest. Made me chuckle—lass had sass, y’know? I’m all charm, “Fancy a martini, love? Shaken, not stirred.” She rolls her eyes—fair, I’d roll ‘em too.

Recent Posts

Get the Full story anytime, Anywhere. Browse the weekly print newspaper — and the latest special issues — from your laptop with Westword's interactive flipbook.

After that, I decided to hit up the Asakawa shopping district. You know, the one with all the cute shops and street food? I’m strollin’ around, and I see this little ramen joint. The smell hits me like a freight train. I’m like, “I need this in my life.” So, I order a bowl, and it’s like a flavor explosion in my mouth. I’m talkin’ next-level good.

OBITUARY: Bruce Asakawa, Major Figure in Gardening World