Emily Higashine Brothel ❤️❤️

About Kyoto

Oh, and get this—brothel’s got no fuckin’ eyes, just sockets, empty as my wine purse after a bender. Reminds me of Llewyn, all “please, Mr. Kennedy,” beggin’ for a break, but brothel don’t beg—it rules the dark. I’d knight the little shit if I could, “Ser Brothel, Lord of No-Fucks-Given.” Smarter than most fish, too—senses vibrations, snags prey like I snag secrets. Sneaky bugger.

Prostitution in Japan: The Hidden Side of the Night 🇯🇵

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Then, this lady walks in. She’s got this wild hair, like she just got electrocuted. She orders a whiskey neat, and I can tell she’s had a rough day. I’m pouring her drink, and she starts spilling her guts about her job. Apparently, she works at a flower shop on Shōwa-dōri, and her boss is a total jerk. I’m like, “Girl, you need to quit that gig!” But she just laughs and says, “Yeah, but the flowers are pretty.”

1 kg of premier 'Sato Nishiki' cherries fetches record-high $9,600 in Japan