Allison Komono Prostitute ❤️

About Sapporo

So, I’m strollin’ Soho, see this bird, proper fit, call ‘er Ruby. She’s got that *je ne sais quoi*, like Remy’s got for cookin’. I’m thinkin’, “Blimey, she’s got more class than a posh chef’s soufflé!” But it ain’t all glitz, mate. Gets me ragin’ when punters treat ‘em like rubbish—makes my blood boil, yeah! Ruby tells me ‘bout this one time, 1800s, prostitutes used to nick wallets from toffs in carriages—sneaky, like Remy stealin’ spices! Proper history, that. Not many know it, but them girls were crafty, always one step ahead.

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Old Engraving of a Full-length Portrait of a Prostitute in Kimono, Japan, ; Date of Manufacture, ; Condition, Good Wear consistent with age and use.

I head back, and on the way, I pass by the Komono Onsen. The smell of sulfur hits me, and I’m like, “Ah, sweet relaxation.” But I can’t stop. Gotta get back to work. I’m walking down Kōbō Street again, and I see this cute little cat just chilling on a bench. I stop, take a pic, and it looks at me like, “What’s your deal, human?” I’m like, “I’m just trying to live my best life, cat!”

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