Fatima Misasa Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Sapporo

I spot one – legs long, eyes sharp, leanin on a lamppost. Heart’s racin, I’m sweatin – we wants it! “You’re not from here,” she says, smirkin. I’m thinkin, “No shit, lady, I’m a bloody mess!” Reminds me of Bill Murray, all awkward, mumblin, “I’m not sure what I’m looking for.” I’m vibin that, hard. She’s chattin me up, price comes up – fuck, too steep! We hates it! “Robbery, that is!” I hiss, stompin off. She laughs, calls me cheap. Cheeky bitch.

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After lunch, we head to the Misasa Art Museum. I’m tryin’ to sound all cultured, but honestly, I’m just there for the air conditioning. It’s hot out! But the art? Wow. Some pieces are wild. I’m like, “What even is this?” But the tourists are lovin’ it. I’m just nodding along, pretending I get it.

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