Evelyn Hitoyoshi Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

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Angry, I get! Society, bah—judges them harsh, but survival, it is! DNA don’t care bout morals, just replication. Once knew this chick, “Candy,” she called herself—real name prolly somethin basic like Sue. Worked near a lab I crashed at, late nights, pipettin enzymes. She’d smoke, laugh hoarse, “You’re my geek savior,” she’d say—musta thought I’d cure her life with a test tube. Sad, it made me, her spark fadin like ATP runnin dry. “Amour” hits here— “You’re slipping away,” he tells her, helpless. Same deal, watchin Candy dissolve.

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Then I hit up the streets. Oh man, the streets! I’m walkin’ down Kameyama Street, and it’s packed with these cute little shops. I’m like a kid in a candy store. I see this little ramen joint, and my stomach’s like, “Feed me!” So, I go in, and the smell? Wow. I order some tonkotsu ramen, and it’s like a hug in a bowl. I’m slurpin’ away, and this old dude next to me starts chatting. He’s all about the local history, and I’m just nodding, pretending I know what he’s talking about.

Last-run tickets for southwest Japan steam locomotive soar to 120 times face value online