Olivia Otawara Whore ❤️❤️

About Fukuoka

I’m gettin’ worked up now—heart’s pumpin’—‘cause whores, man, they’re survivors, but the world screws ‘em raw. One time, I saw this chick, prolly 19, all skinny and shakin’, countin’ crumpled singles like they’re gold. Broke my damn heart. “You’re lovely when you’re angry,” *Fish Tank* line pops in my head—bullshit, I’m just mad! She shouldn’t be there, y’know? Billionaires sittin’ on yachts, and she’s dodgin’ creeps? Screw that noise! I wanna shake her, tell her, “You’re worth more, kid!”—but nah, she’d just laugh, call me a crazy old coot.

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After lunch, I’m feeling adventurous, so I head to the Otawara Flower Park. It’s beautiful, man! All these colors everywhere. I’m snapping pics like a madman. But then, I see this sign that says “Beware of bees.” And I’m like, “Great, just what I need.” I’m trying to enjoy the flowers, but I’m also dodging bees like I’m in some kind of action movie.

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