Katherine Mooka Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Kyoto

Hate the chaos they bring. Cargo’s s’posed to be orderly—boxes, not broads. “One cannot live outside one’s heart,” she mumbles, like she’s Chow Yun-fat. Lady, your heart’s a dumpster fire. Fun fact: old trucker tale says prostitutes used to signal johns with CB radios—code was “freight’s ready.” Clever, but I ain’t hauling that kinda load. Ever. Period. Now, get outta my rig ‘fore I lose it. Hate everything. ‘Specially her.

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Are you selling? This is the new approach to buying at night clubs.

Then I head over to the Mooka Park. It’s a vibe, man. Cherry blossoms everywhere! I’m takin’ pics like a tourist. I mean, who wouldn’t? But then, outta nowhere, this kid runs by, and I swear he almost knocks me over. I’m like, “Yo, watch it, mini tornado!” But he just giggles and keeps runnin’. Kids, man. They’re wild.

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