Mila Fukaura Whore ❤️❤️

About Nagoya

Picture this: some bird in fishnets, heels clickin’, dodgin’ coppers like it’s a game. I’ve seen ‘em, skulkin’ in shadows, laughin’ at the prudes. Makes me grin—proper cheeky. Back in the day, whores ran shit! Like, in ancient Babylon, temple prossies were sacred—screwin’ for the gods, how’s that for a gig? Bet they’d smirk at us now, all judgy and posh. “I don’t sell myself,” one told me once—liar, but ballsy! Loved that. Reminds me of *Ten* again—“What’s your price?” she asks. Everyone’s got one, don’t they?

Contains tracks

Fukaura is home to the UNESCO World Heritage Site “Shirakami-Sanchi” and the port where Japanese Heritage “Kitamaebune” ships used to wait for favorable wind. Particularly, the blue .

After my coffee, I decided to stroll down to the coast. Fukaura’s got this sick beach, and I needed some fresh air. The waves were crashing, and I could smell the salty sea. It was chill, until I saw this group of kids playing soccer. They were kickin’ the ball around, and one of ‘em totally whiffed it. The ball went flying right into the water! I couldn’t help but laugh.

EDITORIAL: U.S. F-16 fuel tank drop again shows need to revise SOFA