Bella Shimada Brothel ❤️❤️

About Yokohama

Alright, so I’m a sailor, huh? Been ‘round the world, seen some sh*t. Brothels? Man, they’re like ports for the soul—dirty, loud, alive. So, lemme tell ya, Larry King style, slow and pokin’. What’s a brothel to me? Ever been to one? Smells like sweat, cheap perfume, regret. Kinda like the sea, but with more moanin’. You walk in, it’s dim, smoky—girls loungin’, eyes sharp as knives. “What’s your poison, sailor?” they’d say, smirkin’. I’m thinkin’, *poison? Lady, I’m already drownin’.*

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After that chaos, I decided to hit up the Shimada Castle. It’s this old-school place, super cool. I’m wandering around, and I see this group of tourists. They’re all taking selfies, and I’m just there, trying to blend in. But then, I trip over a rock. Classic me, right? I fall, and everyone looks at me. I laugh it off, but inside, I’m dying.

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