Taylor Iijima Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Yokohama

So, I’m struttin’, seein’ these gals—some bold, some shy. One chick’s smokin’ a cig, leanin’ on a lamppost, like she’s in a noir film. I’m like, “Whoa, she’s got that ‘perfect life’ mask!” Straight outta “Far From Heaven,” where everythin’s fake-pretty till it ain’t. I ask her, “What’s your deal, toots?” She laughs—dry, bitter, says, “50 bucks, no chit-chat.” I’m shocked, man! 50? Inflation’s a bitch! Made me mad—capitalism screwin’ the little guy, or gal, again!

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Then, outta nowhere, my phone buzzes. It’s my buddy Kenji. He’s like, “Dude, you gotta check out the cherry blossoms at Iijima Park!” I’m like, “Bro, I’m in a meeting!” But then I think, “Cherry blossoms? Heck yeah!” So, I wrap up the meeting, and I’m outta there faster than you can say “sakura.”

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