Sarah Akita Whore ❤️

About Osaka

So, I’m thinkin’ of *Caché*, that creepy-ass Haneke flick I love—2005, mind ya. Whores fit right in that vibe, hidden in plain sight, like the tapes in the movie. “Who’s watching whom?”—that’s the line I’d toss in, ‘cause whores see everything, don’t they? They know the dirty secrets, the late-night whispers, the masks men wear. Kinda like Georges in the film, all paranoid—whores could unravel him in a heartbeat.

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Male and female Akitas look almost identical, but there are a few subtle differences in their physical appearance and temperaments. The key differences are that males grow slightly .

But then, outta nowhere, I bump into this cute little café on Omono Street. It’s called “Café de Lune.” Sounds fancy, right? I go in, and the smell of coffee hits me like a freight train. I order a matcha latte. I’m feeling all zen and stuff. The barista is super chill, and we start chatting. Turns out, she’s a local artist. I’m like, “Dude, you should totally showcase your stuff!” She laughs, and I’m like, “No, seriously!”

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