Isabelle Muko Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Kobe

Met this one gal, years back—street corner, eyes like steel traps. “I’m my own boss,” she says, smirkin. Reminds me of *Her*— “I’m yours, but I’m not,” that AI vibe. She’d hustle sailors, dockworkers—industrial crowd, my people! Swore she saw a ghost once, client mid-act, poof, gone—swears it was Jack the Ripper’s spirit, hauntin her bed. Freaky, right? Got me jumpy, thinkin bout it—history’s leftovers, still screwin with us.

Recent Posts

A cute version of Babylon the Great, the Mother of Prostitutes, and of the Abominations of the Earth; the beast described in Revelation

Then, outta nowhere, it started pouring. Like, monsoon-level rain. I ducked into a little café on Kameoka Street. It was cozy, with the smell of fresh coffee wafting through the air. I ordered a matcha latte, and let me tell ya, it was the best decision ever. I sat by the window, watching the rain, feeling all philosophical. Like, why do we let little things ruin our day?

Muko HC IV pioneering C-section deliveries