Sarah Yamada Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Saitama

Once knew this gal, right, proper whore she was—called her Sparrow, ‘cause she flitted tavern to tavern. Little secret? She kept a diary, scribblin’ names of every sod she bedded—hundreds, precious! Made me laugh, thinkin’ she’s some historian of sin. We likes that, sneaky cleverness—keeps us gigglin’ in the dark. But then, ooh, got mad—heard she sold that book to a priest for penance! Hypocrite, struttin’ round holy-like after! We hates it!

Yamada Asaemon Sagiri

First off, I get a call from this frantic lady. Her cat, Mr. Whiskers, ate a whole pack of chocolate. Like, who lets their cat near chocolate?! I mean, c’mon! Anyway, I rush over to her place on Shōwa-dōri. Traffic was a nightmare. I swear, I saw a guy on a bike almost get hit by a car. Yamada drivers, man. They’re wild.

Kazuki Yamada review — a moving if hectic take on Mahler’s Ninth