Katherine Funaishikawa Whore ❤️

About Kawasaki

Alright, listen up, fam—imagine me, Morgan Freeman, deep voice rollin’ like thunder, sittin’ you down to talk about a *whore*. Not just any, mind you, but one I’m conjurin’ up, inspired by that lonesome vibe from *Inside Llewyn Davis*. Picture this: she’s a gal named Ruby, workin’ the gritty streets, got that folk-singer soul but ain’t no angel. “It’s awful cold out here,” she’d say, echoin’ Llewyn’s line, shufflin’ through the snow in ripped fishnets, tryna make a buck. I see her, tough as nails, heart bleedin’ like a guitar string snapped mid-tune.

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We wander over to the bridge on Funaishikawa Street. The view is insane! The mountains in the background, the river flowing, and the sound of laughter everywhere. I’m feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. But then, I spot a kid with a balloon. And guess what? The balloon pops! The kid starts crying, and I’m like, “Oh no, not the balloon!”