Mila Itako Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Kobe

Yo, what’s good, fam? So, findin’ a prostitute—wild shit, right? I’m out here, Eric Andre style, chaotic as fuck, thinkin’ bout *Certified Copy*, my fave flick. Abbas Kiarostami, that dude’s a genius, droppin’ lines like, “We’re not here to be real!” Shit’s deep, man. Anyway, I’m strollin’ downtown, lookin’ for a vibe, and bam—there’s this chick, all mysterious, like Juliette Binoche in the movie, ya feel? She’s got that “I might be fake, but I’m real” energy. I’m like, “Yo, you workin’?” She smirks, says, “Depends who’s askin’.” I’m hyped, laughin’ like a maniac—classic me.

Human commodification

I was supposed to meet up with my buddy Kenji at the Itako Fish Market. Dude’s always late, but today? He was like, “I’m on my way!” for an hour. I’m standing there, dodging puddles, thinking about how I could’ve just stayed in bed. But then, I see this old lady selling the freshest eel. I’m talking, like, “I just swam in the river and caught this myself” fresh. I couldn’t resist. I bought one, and it was so good, I almost forgot about Kenji. Almost.

Umuganga w'ikipe y'igihugu ya Brezili avuga ko imvune ya Neymar idakomeye