Esme Minabe Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Fukuoka

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.

In today’s world you can find pretty much anything with a smartphone.

Then, I decided to stroll down to the Minabe River. It’s super pretty there, with cherry blossoms and all. But, like, I’m walkin’ and suddenly, BAM! A pigeon poops on my shoulder. Seriously?! I’m like, “Great, just what I needed.” I laughed it off, but inside, I was fuming.

Twenty-three contrasting pairs of adjectives selected by five panelists...