Ashley Ashiya Prostitute ❤️

About Kobe

Back in my Texas days—yeehaw!—I heard whispers bout secret brothels in ol’ oil towns. Roughnecks blowin’ cash, playin’ cards, gittin’ frisky. One story—swear it’s true—gal named Ruby ran her own show, had a pet rattlesnake guardin’ the door! Ain’t nobody messin’ with Ruby—tougher’n a two-dollar steak! Surprised me so much I near fell off my horse—well, my chair.

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Know the exalted pastimes of Namacharya Haridas Thakur and how he delivered Lakshahira, the prostitute, here at Benapole, Bangladesh.

After that, I needed a pick-me-up. So, I hit up this little café on Ashiya’s backstreets. You know, the one that’s super cozy and has the best matcha lattes? I walk in, and the barista, this cool dude with tattoos, gives me a nod. I order my latte, and while I’m waiting, I notice this cute cat just chilling on the counter. I’m like, “Dude, is that your cat?” He laughs and says, “Nah, she just hangs out here.” I’m thinking, “I need a cat like that in my life.”

More than 95,000 Japanese aged over 100, most of them women