Lily Nakama Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Fukuoka

So, prostitutes—where’d ya even start? Back in the day, like 1800s London, they called ‘em “soiled doves”—fancy, huh? Kinda sad too. Makes me mad thinkin’ how they got no choice sometimes. I’m walkin’ down this sketchy alley—R2-D2, where you at, buddy?!—and there’s this chick, all sass, leanin’ on a wall. “Hey, goldenrod,” she says, smirkin’. I’m like, what, me? Goldenrod? That’s some Star Wars-level shade!

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Nami: glances over her shoulder as well, half wanting to see what he was looking at, and half deciding whether or not she wanted to eat in there- Actually -.

Then, outta nowhere, this cute dog runs up to me. I’m talkin’ fluffy, wagging its tail like crazy. I bent down to pet it, and boom! The owner, this dude in a bright orange shirt, comes sprinting over. “Sorry! He’s a little too friendly!” I laughed. Like, dude, I’m not mad. I needed that doggo love.

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