Nadia Kitahama Prostitute ❤️

About Osaka

So, prostiution’s old as dirt—did ya know that? Oldest gig around, they say. Back in Rome, they had these brothels, lupanars, fancy name, huh? Girls painted their lips red, signalin’ they’re open for bizness. Kinda cool, kinda creepy. Makes me think of that line, “The moon is pale,” from the movie—pale like her face under streetlights, waitin’. I’d be sweatin’ bullets, wonderin’ if she’s gonna rob me blind. Neurotic? Me? Nah, just cautious!

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This postcard from the s shows Osaka's Kitahama and Nakanoshima, an island sandwiched between the Dojima and Tosabori Rivers.

So, I’m walking down the street, and I see this crazy street performer on Kishu Street. He’s juggling fire or something. I’m like, “Dude, you’re gonna set yourself on fire!” But nah, he’s just vibin’. I’m clapping, and suddenly, he throws a flaming baton right at me! I duck like I’m in a freaking action movie. Heart racing, I’m like, “Is this how I go out? In Kitahama, by a fire juggler?”

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